


bring me home

by whitemiists



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blow Jobs, Car Sex, F/M, Future Fic, Long-Distance Relationship, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Public Sex, Shower Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-11 02:12:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 46,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5609932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitemiists/pseuds/whitemiists
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are two dormant instincts that arise once again when Yui reunites with Sawamura: feelings she'd thought she buried back in high school, and a familiar yearning that's long since passed the realm of an innocent, school girl crush.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well... here we go. Here is my first (real and proper) attempt at writing sin. It's only fitting it should be for DaiYui! And on DaiYui Day!
> 
> The story for this sin goes like this: I planned to write all four chapters first before publishing everything, except that was proving to take quite a while, and then DY Day was slowly drawing closer. So I decided that I would post the first chapter today no matter what, to celebrate the OTP. Let's celebrate, y'all.
> 
> I have some people to thank and some more comments to make. But that can wait. Please enjoy while I go hide...

The dress comes down to her knees. She pats down against the hem of it, smoothing crinkles she had obviously missed during her hasty ironing job just minutes before her best friend had come barreling through her door, and grins at the tiny, orange sunflowers covering the yellow fabric. It's her absolute favorite dress, and after unknowingly abandoning it in her closet and finally returning home from college a year later, it feels  _right_ to be wearing it again.

"I  _swear_ it used to be longer, though," she muses, straightening back up. Her heels slip more snugly into her sandals with her next step, and she catches up to Mao who had lost her patience and gone on ahead. "It used to be past my knees."

"Looks like you've grown." Mao eyes her up and down, her eyes sharp as they take her in. She's wearing her usual pair of comfy jeans and a nice sweatshirt herself. "Makes sense. Time's passed since high school. We've all changed a little, haven't we?"

Yui bites down on her lip and takes the end of her braid between her fingers, spinning it round and round. Back in her high school days it had never been long enough to do such a thing, much less braid it, but now it hangs at her shoulders.

"I should really cut my hair," she says slowly. "It gets in the way of volleyball all the time."

"It's not the length of the hair but that you won't give up those godforsaken bangs," Mao gripes, swiping at them pointedly.

Yui dodges. "They make me look cute!"

"You don't look so cute when you're blinking hair out of your eyes during a spike."

"But I look cute when I'm wearing a nice dress," she persists, jutting up her chin in defense. "Like a  _girl."_

"You look like a girl because you  _are_ one." Her best friend's eyes almost narrow, like she's  _daring_ to be refuted. "Not because of your hair or what you're wearing."

"No one else ever seemed to notice." She shrugs, not seeming to realize when her best friend eyes her warily. But she doesn't seem upset by the admission at all, says it in her usual matter-of-fact tone with her hands thrown behind her head.

Mao shoves her fists into her pockets, and slowly brings up, "What about Tsuchiya?"

Yui stumbles over a step, surprised at the sudden mention of the name, then puts a finger to her cheek. "Hm... Naoto-kun definitely was the exception, wasn't he? But he..." She trails off, and the hint of sadness in her usually starry eyes makes Mao have to look away. "Well, he's not around anymore, so I doubt he even counts."

Her best friend seems dying to argue, to say  _something_ that might convince Yui otherwise once and for all, but the sudden light of lanterns blind them as they round the corner and the festival comes into view, and all is forgotten at Yui's audible gasp.

"It's so  _pretty!"_ she cheeps in delight, running on ahead, arms splayed at her sides. A little girl near the entrance catches her eyes and shyly flashes her a smile, and her answering one is positively radiant. "Mao, come on. There's so much to do and so little time to do it in!"

She bounces on ahead to the first stall she spies that carries plushies, leaving Mao to slowly drag herself after her with a roll of her eyes. She does  _not_ need more stuffed animals when her current ones are already falling off her bed from lack of space, but then, there's no convincing Yui when it comes to plushy business.

"Just don't aim for that big bear," she advises, and Yui's face visibly falls. That had  _obviously_ been her goal from the start.

"Mao, you could just keep it on  _your_ bed for me?" she requests sweetly, going as far as to flutter her eyelashes. They're roommates after all, so no matter whose bed houses the newest addition to their dorm she would still get to see it every day.

The blonde rolls her eyes, but she is not immune to her best friend's charm. "Oh, all right..."

It's like being given express permission to go wild in her fun, and she doesn't waste a moment doing just that after a quick, one-armed hug.

The Summer Festival stands perfectly recreated from their memories of past years; familiar foods and familiar sounds, familiar stalls and familiar decorations. And, to their slight surprise, familiar people. With every step it seems like they bump into another old face they remember from high shool or middle school or even, once, an old schoolmate Mao hadn't seen since her childhood.

"It's like the whole town came out tonight," Yui marvels, struggling to keep up with her friend in the bustling crowd.

So it should come as no shock at all when Yui, who eagerly races up to the large tank at the fish scooping stall, enamored by the various pretty colors, instead whips her head towards the duo of boys at her side when a flicker of her eyes brings them into her line of vision. Still, she's absolutely stunned.

 _"S-Sawamura?"_ she squeaks, and he abruptly stammers off halfway through a sentence to his companion, catching her eyes after a hasty once-over towards the stall. They widen, to match hers. "And Sugawara, too?"

He's dressed in a color she remembers all too well: black from head to toe, from his light T-shirt down to his shorts, looking so very much like the high school boy she had seen off at graduation. Indeed he's almost like a shadow of that boy, his face still young and firm. But she spies harder musle under his clothes and the light beginnings of stubble on his chin, and it's a testament that he's grown.

Her reaction, however, is one like if they were still teenagers standing outside Takeda-sensei's classroom during the bustling lunch hour.

 _"Oh, my gosh!_ Long time no see!" With an excited whoop, not mindful at all of the way her dress swishes around her thighs (or how Sawamura's gaze wavers to the fluttering fabric, how his tongue flicks out to wet his lips), she pushes her way in between them. "So you guys came too!"

"Yes, for old time's sake," Sugawara chuckles, clapping Daichi's shoulder. "The old team's getting together."

"How nice!" she chirps, grinning. "I  _wish_ we could do the same, but it just didn't work out that way for my old team, you know?" Her smile wavers only for a second, before she shakes her head, puts her disappointment behind her, and beams. "But, anyway,  _wow,_ how  _are_ you guys!"

"Uh... good," Daichi mumbles, a hand cupping the back of his neck. He flashes her a sheepish smile, one Yui returns with polite puzzlement because she's never known Sawamura to be someone who shies away.

Sugawara laughs again, and the light from the stall catches the sly glint in his eye. "As Daichi so  _eloquently_ put it, we're here on break for the rest of the week."

"Me, too!" she exclaims, eagerly pointing to herself. Gesturing behind her towards her waiting friend, she explains, "I got into town yesterday and we heard the festival would coincidentally happen during our visit, so we  _had_  to come. It's like tradition, you know? I came with Mao — who is, um, giving me sort of a mean look right now..." she notices sheepishly, glancing apologetically at the scowling blonde. A simple request to take a closer look at the fish had accidentally turned into a much longer reunion. "I kind of forgot her over there. Oops."

"Go back to your friend," Sugawara allows kindly, shaking his head. Same old Michimiya.

She looks slightly crestfallen, pausing after taking just one step towards Mao. She glances back at them, then at her friend, then back at them, looking torn. "B-But... I really want to catch up with you guys, too! It's been so long." Not one to waste a moment, she hurries on to ask, "Are you free tomorrow?"

"Ah." Sugawara mulls it over, then wrinkles his nose. "Sorry. Busy."

"Oh." She shrivels a little, slightly let down after she'd built up her excitement.

"But  _Daichi_  here," he hurries on to say, shoving his silent friend forward by his back, so that he almost stumbles before her, "is free as a crow! He's got plenty of time to spare. Right?" And with a disapproving frown, he jabs him hard in the side until he's jolted out of his gaping state.  _"Say_ something, Daichi."

"Oh! Uh..." He's more fidgety than she remembers — he shoves his hands into the pockets of his shorts, and his feet shuffle one after the other — but his reluctant smile's just as handsome as always. "Yeah. I'm free."

"Then let's meet up!" she immediately suggests, brightening again. "Tomorrow at four, at the clock tower?"

He clears his throat. "Sounds good."

"Promise!" she calls cheerily over her shoulder, bouncing back over to her impatient friend.

Sugawara smirks at her retreating back, then lands a sharp slap on Daichi's back that almost makes him buckle, relishing in the pink color of his ears. Yui misses the exchange, but asks Mao why she looks so very amused.

 

 

 

In high school, Yui had set aside a significant portion of her student life to plastering her name in front of Daichi's last. Dozens of  _Sawamura Yui_  litter her old notebooks even to this day, an old shame she had shoved deep into her closet before moving on to college.

Mao is quick to remind her of this.

"Stop digging up all those dumb things I used to do," Yui whines, hiding her face behind her hands. The secondhand embarrassment from her past self slams into her gut. "That was me back in high school."

Mao lazily flips a page of her magazine and crunches down on a potato chip, flopped down on Yui's bed. "So you don't have any more feelings for him?"

"I-I don't know..." She bites down on her lip. "I don't  _think_  so? I mean, he looked really good when I saw him yesterday.  _Really_  good." She rubs at her nose to hide the pink on her face, thinking of broad shoulders and knees peeking out from under the black of his shorts. She'd never thought knees to be attractive aside from his. "So maybe I still like him a little. But not enough to... steal one of his kneepads or something."

"Oh, my god. You did that?"

"It was just an example!" she insists furiously, turning back to her closet. "Now, would you please tell me if you think this skirt is cute or not?" She looks unsurely at the floral pattern.

"Super cute, Yui. And super short. Sawamura's gonna love it."

"Th-That's not why I chose it!" she splutters in her defense, shooting her friend a pinched sort of look. But she still lays out the skirt to wear later, then begins a quest for a matching shirt. "I wonder if Sawamura likes my knees, too..."

She ignores Mao's confused stare.

 

 

 

For as long as she's known him, Sawamura Daichi has been  _handsome._

In middle school he'd had the sort of serious look about him not typical for boys his age, and while some girls on the team had mentioned how seriously he took himself, Yui would feel her heart palpitate for each hard line of his face. High school had supercharged his body until he'd grown to match that mature face of his, and Yui had noticed. It had started with his back, so steady, so commanding, but soon every inch of him had enraptured her just as strongly.

In present time, he is even more so, blankly tapping away at his phone in front of the clock tower as promised and occasionally jiggling the watch on his wrist. Yui slows from her run, and with a soft gulp she can't resist peeking into the park fountain to smooth down her hair one last time, hoping her distorted face in the water looks much prettier in real life. It's been a year since she's seen him, but a small part of her is still the high school girl who'd hoped her crush would reciprocate even once.

Once she's sufficiently tidied up, it's not difficult plastering a grin on her face. She waves a hand. "Sawamura!"

He glances up just as she skids to a stop before him, almost forced to take a step back at her sudden appearance. "Oh! Uh..." Wide eyes take her in, and even Yui is not completely ignorant to his lasting gaze on her mini skirt. "Hey, Michimiya. You look... good."

She preens under his compliment. "Thanks! You, too."

He hastily hides his phone out of sight so as not to be rude, a hand scratching the back of his neck. "Shall we go?" It occurs to him then that they'd never really made concrete plans to begin with, but Yui shakes her head.

"There's no rush, Sawamura," she insists cheerily. "We got together to catch up anyway. Let's sit on that bench for a bit and talk, yeah? I mean, if you're okay with it?"

"Sounds good." He allows himself to be led, trailing after her as she scurries under the shade of the tree. Not that it's particularly hot  _or_ sunny to begin with, the sun hidden behind a partition of clouds that have lasted well since the morning.

She beckons him to take a seat first, then plants herself beside him close enough that their legs press together. Even when Sawamura stares down at their pressed skin, stiffening slightly at the contact, and she burns a little on the inside, she doesn't pull away. Being physical with Sawamura is a luxury she's always been awarded, after all; punches to the arm, ruffles of her hair, or the way their shoulders would touch as they leaned against school windows to talk. It's special treatment and it's always made her feel good.

"Tell me  _everything,"_ she asks eagerly, palms flat against the bench as she leans in. Her legs tuck properly underneath her.

"I'm not that interesting," he tries to warn her, but she bats that away with a  _"psh"_ and a wave of her hand, and it actually makes him smile in this gentle way, like she's just handed him some paper-and-glue homemade craft that says  _Best Volleyball Player_ on it.

He tells her of moving day, of his dorm room suddenly beginning to feel more and more like home, of classes that gripped his interest and classes he'd almost been caught half-asleep in, of volleyball practices that dragged on well past the midnight mark, of quiet study sessions in libraries that make her smile at the image of him stress-poring over books with his third cup of coffee in his jittery hands. And she reciprocates, her stories a little less studious and more whimsical tales of late night college adventures with Mao at her side.

She's just moved on to her Christmas recount when the first drop of water lands before their feet.

"Oh!" Yui holds out a hand, feeling for more rain, and is surprised to see how the clouds had darkened without either of them realizing it. "I didn't see rain on the forecast, only clouds."

"Well, let's not sit here and risk the chance of getting soaked, hm?" he reasons, getting to his feet. He extends a hand towards her to help her stand as well, except even when she's on her feet he doesn't let go. "Let's try finding an indoor place to sit."

His fingers squeeze around hers, as he leads the way through the park to the nearest collection of buildings. Yui follows numbly, staring down at their joined hands, wondering whether he had simply forgotten or whether he just feared losing her in the (dwindling) crowd.

The rain is by no means heavy, but the drizzle picks up just enough that their clothes darken in places with water and they're forced to barrel into the first building they see: a quiet bar that's still empty considering the early hour, but one that's chilled enough to make Yui shiver hard. Daichi glances at her in worry, gnawing at his bottom lip in thought, before turning to the nearest employee.

"Is there any place here where we can dry off or warm up?" he asks, and maybe it's just another thoughtless action, but he pulls Yui into his side and anxiously runs his hands up and down her bare arms to warm her up.

The man looks between them in contemplation, but even he is not without a heart when another brief shiver rakes Yui's spine and she clings to Daichi's warmth. "Private dining booths are only for people eating in," he tells them, "but we have rooms upstairs. You pay by the hour."

"We'll take one," Daichi immediately replies, uncoiling just one arm from around Yui to reach for his wallet.

"Wait, Sawamura, we'll split it—" she begins meekly, but a stern look makes her stammer off.

"It'll be hard to get a taxi in this rain, too, so we'll have to stay for a couple hours and wait it out," he reasons, then turns towards Yui. A drop of water dislodges from her damp bangs and slides down her cheek, and he gently brushes it away with his thumb. "Stay here for a bit while I go pay, okay?"

"M'kay," she replies obediently. He detaches himself, and as she watches him get farther away, another shiver makes her hug herself to make up for the missing warmth. But her own heat, she finds out, is nothing at all compared to having Sawamura wrapped around her.

 

 

 

The first thing Yui spies is the heater jointed to the far wall.

"Thank  _goodness!"_ she breathes, and immediately kicks off her shoes before barreling into the room to tinker with the controls. A blast of warm air chugs out of the heater when she turns up the temperature, and she stands before it in relief.  _"Ahh..."_

Daichi chuckles, quieter as he slips off his sandals and places them neatly to the side along with hers, before softly shutting the door behind him. It's a small room but just what they need at the moment; a bed sits against one wall, a dresser at its side, and the heater against another. Yui watches him curiously as he unwinds his watch from around his wrist and pulls out his phone and his wallet, tugging open the top drawer of the dresser to place his belongings for safekeeping.

But he peers in for only a moment before abruptly slamming the drawer shut and stumbling away, and Yui is almost alarmed to see the worrying shade of crimson creeping up his face.

"What's wrong, Sawamura?"

"U-Uh, nothing!" He drops his things on top of the dresser instead, never meeting her eyes as he rearranges each item with more care than was strictly necessary. " _Sorry,_  just,  _ahem,_  thought I saw a bug. B-But I must have been mistaken." He twiddles his thumbs before glancing at her expectantly, as if wondering whether she had bought the story.

Yui hesitates for only a moment, then dissolves into laughter as she turns back to the warm air. "I didn't know you were scared of bugs."

"I'm not!" he insists, embarrassed. "Just... surprised, is all." At the hint of a tease in her smile, he hurries on to advise, "Maybe it would be best to get out of these wet clothes? A cold is bad enough but a cold in the summer is even worse."

Yui picks at her T-shirt, eyeing the splotch of water down her front and reaching for what she can feel sticking to her back. "Yeah... okay." With a shrug she begins to hastily tug her shirt over her head.

Sawamura stiffens, staring dumbly at the smooth patch of stomach she reveals and the curve of her hips dipping into her skirt, but it's not until just the slightest bottom line of her bra peeks out that he spins to stare at the wall. "Should I, um, go stand in that far corner over there?" he offers weakly.

Yui smiles faintly at his back, almost amused at how the hairs have stood up on the back of his neck. He's unexpectedly cute in unfamiliar situations. "Don't worry about it, Sawamura," she laughs, tossing her wet shirt onto a nearby chair before returning to the heater, hoping to smooth down the goosebumps rising across her skin. "I know you wouldn't do anything."

He clears his throat once, loudly, but then firmly echoes, "I wouldn't do anything you wouldn't want me to do."

"Hmm, well, there's a lot my high school self would have wanted you to do," she giggles to herself, her voice low and disguised under the hum of the heater.

There's silence in the room.

Yui thinks it's because he obviously hadn't heard her, just as she'd meant it. But then—

"...What does  _that_  mean?" he asks her softly, a frown in his voice, and probably a crease between his eyebrows too.

Yui stills, her breath following suit, peeking at him from under a curtain of hair. He's still respectfully facing the wall, his back straight, but his hands have clutched his shorts at his sides and she knows Sawamura well enough to know he'll always get an answer when he's determined. Still, she scrambles.

"Uh, I-I just! I just meant... that I..." She stares helplessly at the heater, seeing absolutely no way out when there weren't many ways her words could be construed. "T-Truth is, I... had a crush on you in high school," she reveals in a tiny voice, playing with the end of her skirt.

"You  _did?"_ he throws back in disbelief, and strangely enough, his fists only tighten around his shorts.

Her lips slant. "You really didn't notice?" She'd always thought she'd been rather obvious, almost pathetically so, or at least Mao had so said.

He fumbles over his own tongue, taken completely off guard. "N-No, of course not — I-I mean, if I'd known I  _definitely_  wouldn't have, or, er, I definitely  _would_  have..."

She eyes him closely, taking a step towards him. "You would have what?"

There's an audible swallow. "I definitely would have..."

He turns just as she takes another experimental step forward, and she suddenly becomes hyperaware that her shirt is several paces behind her. But Sawamura's gaze never drops or wavers; he really wouldn't do anything she didn't want him to do. That's the kind of boy he's been since she's known him. Still, she's insanely relieved she'd worn nicer underwear today.

"What about now?" he asks, shying back a little. "Do you still... even now?"

Yui feels her face burn, and she shrinks into herself, arms folding around her waist. He's so open and honest with her, with how vulnerable he feels asking the question, that she's pulled into honesty herself. "I-I don't know? I think... maybe?" She bites her lip. "I-It was more of a silly crush thing in high school, I think, but I-I don't think I ever completely got over it? I liked you for a long time, after all. So maybe a little, still, yes..."

Her head spirals.  _Oh, god._  Had she just  _confessed_  to  _Sawamura?_ Why did her mouth never have a filter when it mattered?

She nervously fiddles with her skirt round and round her finger, waiting to hear what Sawamura could possibly have to say after suddenly having a confession dropped on him.

There's a small cough, a nervous catch in Sawamura's throat, and suddenly he's brushing hair out of her face, tucking it delicately behind her ear and trailing his thumb down the side of her cheek.

"What if I told you that I... also..." he begins awkwardly.

She glances up, earnestly taking him in, not daring to hope. "Sawamura?"

He sighs. "Well, I was an idiot in high school is what I was."

"Nuh-uh." She shakes her head. "You were in the advanced class, remember?"

A twitch of a smile makes his cheek jump. He strokes her cheek once again. "No, I meant that I never noticed the important things. Like how you liked me. And how... I liked you."

The rain suddenly pelts down harder; they both hear it smash against the wall, almost seeming to rattle the whole building. But neither of them looks away.

Yui swallows loudly, just once, before her hands come to land on Sawamura's shoulders, slide past the collar of his shirt, and meet at the back of his neck. She takes a single step closer, and this time, she doesn't miss when his eyes flit to the swish of her skirt.

"You did?"

"Yeah." A lick of his lips. Hands on her hips. "But I didn't realize until much later, until you were already so far away. Like I said. An idiot."

"You want me," she tries saying aloud. Her face doesn't even burn, not when she still can't quite believe it.

Sawamura eyes her pretty, pink bra, lacier than what she normally wears day-to-day, and his eyes harden. "You have no idea."

"Well, if it's half as much as I always wanted you."

She smiles sheepishly, but at this point it feels as if they're only stalling for time. Sawamura can't stop staring at the fall and rise of her chest, at the devilishly short length of her skirt, at every move her mouth makes. He wants her. He  _wants her._

"I want you, too," she tells him, surely, and time fast-forwards.

Sawamura takes that final step forward, closing the gap between them, and the harsh tug on her hips is all the warning she gets before he dips onto her mouth. Urgent.  _Hard._ He ravishes her mouth until her back arches to collide their chests together, and her low keen is answered only by his throaty growl. The second he pulls back only allows her enough time to whimper  _"Sawamura"_  until she's being ravished again, his hands at the small of her back to  _keep_  her pressed up against him. He kisses as well as she'd always fantasized, Yui thinks dreamily, before her eyelids obscure her vision.

The sound of harsh rain isn't enough anymore to cover labored breathing or the sharp gasps of air they intake before meeting for another kiss. Sawamura hums needily when her fingers twine into the hairs on his neck and  _yank,_  but it's nothing compared to Yui's lengthy groan when he shoves his knee between her legs and grazes the heat already pooling there.

Nothing compared to Yui's sharp _"oh!"_ when she feels his zipper press into her thigh and realizes it's not his zipper at all.

They don't let go but they pull back enough to meet each other's eyes, and the surprise on Yui's face is enough to bring red to his cheeks.

"S-Sorry, Michimiya! I'm so sorry, I can't really control — no, fuck, I mean —" He can't seem to pull his hips away fast enough. "I-I'll just...  _hng."_

Yui silences him by kissing him hard on the mouth, yanking him back before he can get too far and roaming a hand suggestively down his chest. It's his turn to look stunned.

"It's okay," she tells him. Her voice comes out a little choked, even when she clears it, but not in a bad way. "I don't hate it."

Sawamura's hard. For her.

This is something she's dreamed about since she'd become old enough to realize that love isn't always innocent kisses and butterflies in her stomach; sometimes it's rough and it's red hot — like catching herself wondering what Sawamura looks like under his volleyball uniform. She wonders now, too. She likes what she can feel of him through his shirt.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks hesitantly, still not taking her words as cue to resume kissing.

"Sawamura, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm a grown woman now," she tells him sternly, but can't keep a small smile off her face.

"Oh, I noticed..." He turns even more red. Once again the two become overly aware of the boner digging into her leg and how she's been shirtless from the start.

"Then keep kissing me," she says promptly, clutching his shirt. "I know what I want. I know I want this. I've wanted it for  _so long,_ Sawamura, I—"

"Daichi," he interrupts, then gruffly looks away from her wide, doe-like eyes. "If we're really going to do this then I want you to call me Daichi."

She nods once, then cradles his face between her palms, bringing him back around to meet her eyes. "Kiss me, Daichi."

His breath hitches, just once, before he dives right back in, taking her bottom lip between his teeth this time and slinking in his tongue when she groans. A single digit slips past the waistband of her skirt and he rakes a fingernail across her hip; the sensation shoots straight up her spine and she mewls as she slams their hips together, grinding down on his erection. The low, primal grunt in response is like sweet victory.

"Yui, if you keep that up," he growls around her mouth, his hands groping senselessly at her sides.

Her only answer is to press down even harder, and he carries through with his warning when a hand travels up her back and yanks harshly at her bra. A rough twist of the flimsy fabric is enough to pop open the clasp. Yui gasps as the straps slide down her shoulders, exposing the curves of her breasts that had been previously covered.

Daichi rips away from her mouth, looking rightly dazed, and greedily drinks in the sight of her bra finally falling away to the floor. He's not the only one that's hard; any other time Yui might have tried the cool air defense, but the heat in her panties tells a different story for how much her nipples have hardened.

She fights the instinct to cover up her chest (she _likes_  the way Daichi can't seem to look anywhere else), but insists, "W-Well, it's not fair if I'm the only one getting undressed!"

Her hands are just as desperate and harsh as they claw at the hem of his shirt. Daichi surrenders easily enough, raising his arms and letting her slip his modesty over his head. As his shirt pools to the floor Yui eyes his muscled chest and fights the overwhelming urge to lick her way down.

"Is it okay if I... touch?"

It takes her a moment to realize the request had not been hers, despite the lewd thoughts racing through her head (or perhaps  _because_  of them, for she's much too busy planning everything she'd like to eat off his abs). It was Daichi who had tentatively asked, staring harder at her chest now that she can't seem to control her breathing.

"Please," she whispers.

The plea seems to surge straight down to his hard on; his Adam's apple bobs and he looks like he can't breathe himself as shaky hands reach for her chest. But skin touches skin — she breathes in sharply, like she's coming to life — and he's more sure of himself.

He delicately traces the sides of her breasts, feeling out the curves, marveling in the plumpness that fits so perfectly in his hands. Yui whimpers at his experimental squeeze, and a hardened sort of determination on his features is the only warning she gets before he cups her fully and swipes his thumbs across her budded nipples.

Her tongue meets the roof of her mouth in a sharp hiss, and she lurches into his hands, hanging off his neck as she rides out her shivers.

"Did that feel good?" he asks, almost unsurely, his thumbs resting against the tips.

 _"Ah..._  yes..."

He swipes again, more harshly, up and then down. Yui lolls her head back, shutting her eyes to bask in the pleasure of him kneading at the sensitive skin. He suddenly runs his tongue down her exposed neckline.

"Ah!  _Daichi..."_  she sighs, hazily. A spot of something wet joins the heat in her panties.

He grunts low, kissing his way down before latching on to her pulse, sucking down on it as his thumbs continue to roll her nipples. She sighs again, holding on to him for dear life, never wanting it to end.

But then Daichi pulls one thumb away, tongues his way down her neck, and slips one nipple between his lips.

The groan he's rewarded with is nothing like any sound Yui has ever made before; it's low, needy, primal. She claws desperately at his hair and presses his face deeper between her breasts, keeping him there. He gives an experimental suck and makes her whimper.

"B-Bed," she rasps with difficulty. Eyes still shut, she stumbles blindly in search of the double bed, pulling him along with her as he never surrenders the bud in his mouth. Her legs hit the edge and send her tumbling onto the mattress, Daichi crashing on top.

It's here when he stops. He pulls her nipple from between his lips and instead meets her eyes. She can barely open hers, and behind her heavy lids he sees how dazed she looks.

"Are we sure?" he asks, and is surprised by how his voice croaks from need.

"I... I'm sure," she heaves back. It's a most beautiful sight, Yui on her back beneath him, her hands fisted on either side of her head, opening herself up to him for an invitation to continue.

Daichi licks his lips once, moistening cracked skin, before dipping back down to find her breasts and resume; he tongues one and pinches the other, and Yui tries desperately to close her legs to hide what she can feel happening between them except Daichi's still got his thigh pressed between hers.

He swipes slow and hard, circling the tip with his tongue then rubbing against it as a whole. Yui arches into him with a whine, her leg dragging down one of his, but he persists until her skin's pink and sensitive to even the slightest touch — then he switches. Yui hums low in response, squirming underneath him but not hard enough to put up a real fight.

When he pulls away, she can still feel her nipples tingling from all the attention he had lavished them with.

"You're so amazing," she whispers, with a hazy smile. It only widens when he reddens at her words. How cute, as she's finding out. "My turn now?" she asks pointedly, staring up at him.

Daichi nervously pulls away, tumbling back onto the mattress as Yui clambers up. Her breasts still feel fuzzy and wonderful, and even more so when she leans into him, hands loosely encircling his neck, and presses their chests together. They both exhale as one.

She starts with a quick kiss to his lips, which delve into a lick down his jawline, light pecks on his neck, until she's slid down for slow, hazy kisses on his chest. For years she'd dreamed of being held against it, of exploring it with her hands and her mouth just like this.

Daichi's eyes snap open when she dips below his navel, to press her lips right above the messy curls leading a path to his shorts.

"Y-Yui," he stutters, pulling back her face to meet her eyes.

She grins. "We're sure, remember?"

Never tearing her eyes away, she twists the band of his shorts and pops open the button, hastily yanking down the zipper. Immediately his erection pokes out between the new gap, a bigger problem than she'd originally thought.

Daichi shuffles his legs, half-closing them in an attempt to hide his boner.

"Don't be embarrassed, Daichi, it's just  _me!"_ she scolds him, when he glances away. She sighs, endeared by his shyness despite herself. "Would it help if I went first?"

"Wh—"

He has enough time to whip his head back around before she's pulled away, yanked at the band of her skirt, and whipped both it and her panties down her legs in one fluid motion. His eyes widen, even more when she tugs them off her feet to reveal the blatant damp spot on her underwear, and even more so still when she stretches up on her knees to give him a full view.

Yui fights the instinctive urge to hide away and boldly meets his eyes. "If I'm naked then you have to be too."

He does a sweep of her entire figure, dumbstruck, then her words tumble past his lips back to her. "You're _amazing."_

Her face burns. Her nose scrunches. They're ways to hide her own embarrassment, as she turns her attention back to his shorts. Hooking her fingers through two of his belt loops, she asks him seriously, "Is it okay?"

He pauses once, gaze flickering down to her full body again, before he nods once.

She shimmies down his shorts first, carefully leading them over the outline of his cock and down his powerful thighs. She stops at his knees only long enough to press a kiss on one before leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

Daichi swallows. It doesn't look comfortable at all, how little space he has left in his boxers with how big he's gotten. There's a small, damp spot in the center from his arousal. Yui crawls back in between his thighs, hesitates, then presses a kiss to his erection through the fabric.

 _"Yui..."_  Daichi groans, shutting his eyes.

Her face flames, but she knows there's no more need for embarrassment between them. Gripping at his waistband, she asks him resolutely, "Can I?"

"...Let me help," he manages to say through his daze, before his hands come to rest on top of hers. Together, they yank his boxers down to his feet.

Daichi is the one to toss them to the floor next to her skirt, since Yui's suddenly preoccupied with drinking in the sight of him. She follows the strip of thick black hair down his abdomen, where it sheers off in a clipped, V-shaped fashion and instead becomes the base of his hardened cock. A burst of embarrassment causes Daichi's breath to hitch, and Yui stares, fascinated, as his abs tighten and his arched erection twitches accordingly. A trickle of precum wets the blushing tip of his head the longer she gawks, more than the small dab that had dampened his boxers.

He's half-hard already and grows even thicker under the attention of her fixed gaze. It's every bit as hard and muscled as the rest of him, from his weeping tip up the curve of his shaft to the outline of his balls she's yearning to stroke. Yui clacks her mouth yet, swallows, and wonders whether at full size he would even be able to fit inside her. A devious part of her between her legs burns at the challenge.

She lays one hand flat against his thigh, pulling it back to wedge herself in between. Then, a finger delicately traces a line up his length.

He jerks in response, his cock convulsing in sync to the motion, before he inhales sharply through his nose.  _"Aaa... Yui..."_

"Shh..." She never looks away, but she strokes the inside of his thigh to soothe him back down, then whispers, "Let me do this for you."

His breathing ragged, he clutches at the bed sheets with white knuckles but obediently spreads his legs a little further apart. Yui notices the red tinging the back of his neck and gives him another quick kiss before turning her attention back to his cock. This time, she experimentally drags three fingers up his side; Daichi shudders, but his erection only grows bolder in response, hardening under her touch.

Yui grows bolder in response too, pleased by how well he receives her touches, and in a sudden move she grips him fully round the base.

Daichi makes a low sound like a choked groan, bunching up the sheets to grip them as an anchor, breathing in and out sharply through his nose. His cock springs to life, and Yui realizes with a thrill that she's finally brought him to the top. And he's big.  _So_  big. Warm under her hand, smooth to the touch. It invites her to  _stroke._

She does so languidly, and earns another groan for each drag of her fingers. It's fascinating watching his face; his gritted teeth, the wrinkles of his forehead, the desperate way he's screwed his eyes shut as he struggles to breathe. She strokes harder, faster, and watches color rise both to his face and to his dick, almost scorching her hand.

 _"God,"_  he rasps. A thin layer of sweat coats his neck, and every muscle of his body seems to have tensed.

Yui slides her fingers up to wrap around his head, presses her thumb to his tip, and gives him a sudden flick. Daichi thrusts his hips, pressing into her hand, and Yui obliges with another swipe of her thumb before resting it against his head and furiously rubbing against the smooth skin. When she tightens her fingers around his length and pumps him, that's when Daichi curls his toes, pinching at the sheets.

"Yui... Yui, I can't..." he croaks.

Yui only pumps faster in response, rubs harder, presses kisses to his abs just to watch him clench his muscles. He grinds into her palm, even as his lips move in silent words of desperation.

But there's only enough time for panic to skirt across his face, and a shocked  _"Oh!"_  to slip past Yui's lips before he juts his hips, bites down on his lip, and finishes with a messy squirt of cum that dribbles down his softening shaft and over Yui's fingers.

They both watch in equal surprise, both silently thinking the same thing:  _That was fast._

Daichi doesn't dwindle on that one thought for too long. Before Yui's even wiped her fingers clean on the sheets, he's fallen back on the mattress and covered his horrified face. A long, tortured groan sounds through the cracks between his fingers.

"Daichi," Yui begins soothingly, rubbing his knee.

 _"Fuck!"_  He tilts his head back and makes the noise again, around his labored breathing. "Fuck, I can't believe I—"

"Daichi, i-it's not a big deal!" Yui assures him quickly, and she clambers over his legs to lay herself on top of him, skin to skin, not minding the wetness of his cock poking against her.

It takes a small struggle, but finally she yanks his wrists back and pins them to the mattress, opening up his face for her to see. He's still panting like he's just finished a marathon, barely able to steady himself.

"How is it not a big deal?" he demands, looking away with a face full of shame. "I could barely last a minute, I can't believe I'm this pathetic, I—"

Yui silences him with a quick kiss, her hands slipping from his wrist to slide across his palms and fit her fingers in the spaces between his. The dumbfounded look on his face when she pulls away almost makes her smile, but she bites it down.

"It's not a big deal to me, Daichi," she tells him sweetly, bumping their noses together. She squeezes his hands and he squeezes back unconsciously.

She'd be lying if she said in her fantasies Sawamura hadn't always been some god of stamina, someone with an immeasurable amount of self-control who always brought her over the edge before following. But she's happy it had happened this way, with Sawamura naked and vulnerable underneath her. This is the boy she likes, bare before her.

"And besides," she says softly, pressing a kiss at the corner of his mouth, "this doesn't mean" — another one, this time right below his jawline — "you can't still" — the other side of his mouth — "make me feel good."

Daichi inhales sharply when she kisses him again and kisses back just as hard, but Yui is the one to lick his lips and drag her tongue across his, this time melting into him properly. The drops of sweat over his body cling to her, too.

He hums when she occasionally breaks away to place loving kisses to his cheeks, his nose, his eyelashes, his chest, before inevitably finding her way back to his mouth. Soon his breathing slows as well, as they lose themselves in the haze.

Then Yui breaks a hand out of his hold, slides it down the side of his hard body, and wedges it between their hips to trace the outline of one of his balls.

Daichi gasps loudly, jerking his hips and breaking away from the kiss. "Yui!"

"Let's try again," she mumbles, grinning dazedly. "I want you, Daichi."

"I want you, too, but —  _ah! Goddd..."_

She cups him fully, and he's forced to bite down hard on his lip to keep from making an embarrassing noise. Yui kisses his chest, smiles mischievously, and begins to roll him under her palm. Almost immediately, she feels him poke into her thigh.

Yui moves her leg just slightly, until he's pressed between her thighs and she can feel his heat already starting to burn her skin, and then gently rocks her hips to rub against him. Her hand never stops massaging.

Daichi mutters some profanity under his breath that makes her laugh as she kisses her way down his chest.

"I know you're tired," she mutters against him. Slowly she can feel him growing to his previous glory and doesn't stop her ministrations. "We can take it slower if you'd like."

 _"No,"_ he rasps, and looks at her with great difficulty. An attractive wrinkle forms between his eyebrows. "No, we've wasted enough time because of me."

She slants her lips. "Daichi, that wasn't your fault. I told, it's not a big deal to me —  _ah!"_ A shriek bursts past her lips when Daichi, without any precedence at all, takes her by the shoulders and tosses her back onto the mattress, where she lands on the mound of pillows. He pulls himself up and lingers over her, a carnal look in his eyes.

Yui's widened eyes narrow down on his cock, swollen back to its full size and dripping with precum. "Daichi..." she shudders out, meeting his eyes.

There's a single moment of silence, full of some tense, sparking electricity. Then, the two lunge at each other.

Their chests smash together, and Yui mewls at the feeling of her nipple dragging over his until its swallowed by their harsh kiss. Their tongues meet before their lips do, and then they're running their hands all over each other. Yui rakes her down his back and in return feels him grope his way past her breasts, down her sides, and around her ass to give it a tight squeeze. It pulls her flush against him, and Yui has to break the kiss to gasp when his cock digs into her pelvis.

"B-But... condom..." She can barely get the word out, so driven into her own lust. Water pools at the corners of her eyes.

"Drawer." Daichi seems to be having just as much trouble speaking, but he blindly reaches for the bedside table, never letting go of her ass as he does so. "There are some in the drawer. That's why I..."

Yui remembers his peculiar reaction to opening the drawer earlier, when he'd turned red and given her some half-assed excuse about a bug. "This  _is_  a hotel..."

Daichi doesn't seem to care about the specifics. He yanks open the drawer with such force all his belongings almost topple off the top, but he has eyes only for the line of gold-foil packets he picks out from inside. He rips off one from the end, but just as he begins to furiously tear at it, Yui covers his hands with her own.

"L-Let me," she requests, taking it from him. She can feel Daichi's gaze boring into her face, but she focuses on unsealing the small packet and pulling out the clump of rubber from inside. Letting the foil float away, she puts the end against his tip, then slowly, carefully, rolls the condom over his length.

Daichi suddenly cups her chin then and brings her forward for another kiss — something much sweeter than lustfully tonguing one another in the heat of the moment. He puts his forehead against hers after, then whispers, "I might not last long again."

"That's okay," she whispers back, stroking his face. "I just want you inside me."

A thought occurs to him, however, before his face can redden. "Are you...?" he begins anxiously, frowning.

"Daichi, I've been soaking wet since the moment I saw you at the clock tower," she tells him unabashedly. "It'll be fine."

He shuts his eyes, exhales once, and she sees the twitch of an affectionate smile on his lips before he slowly lays her back against the bed and gently pries apart her legs. Yui almost shies away just then, to have his eyes staring so intently at her sex for the first time, but Daichi holds fast to her knees when she instinctively tries to shut them. Looking entranced, he delicately run his fingers over her. Yui shivers, arching up slightly. When he pulls back just a little, a line of cum connects his finger to her sex.

 _"Daichi,"_ she whimpers, tugging at his arm and yanking him closer. He looks up finally, still looking slightly dazed, and despite everything it makes her feel good. But, "Do it already," she breathes thickly. "I can't wait any longer."

He nods once, looking unsure of himself once again, but carefully locks his hips with hers. Yui's legs automatically curl against either side of his waist, pulling him firmly against her.

"Just the tip first," she requests, already panting in anticipation.

Balancing himself on one steady hand, Daichi takes his cock into his hands and gently guides it to her entrance, pressing just the tip against it as she'd asked. They both moan in unison when their heat joins.

"Oh, god, it feels so good already," Yui breathes, desperately reaching for him. Daichi lets her bring his face into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent and peppering kisses there.  _"Okay._  Deeper now, Daichi. All the way."

He hesitates. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure about you," she answers instantly, and pulls him flush against her. "I want all of you."

He swallows audibly, but nods into her head before slowly thrusting his hips forward. They both hum as he slides deeper between her folds, her slick walls stretching to accommodate him. Yui inhales deeply when finally his base pushes up against her entrance, and the scent of their mixed arousal makes her head spin. She runs her hands down his back, then rakes her way back up.

"I'm going to move now," he starts to say. But the heavy look in her eyes wordlessly eggs him on:  _Do it. Do it. I want it. Fast. So good. Daichi._

Another swallow, then he sets his elbows on either side of her head on the mattress, bracing himself the best he can while Yui desperately melds every inch of their bodies together. Then, he slowly pulls back his hips.

Clearly he hadn't expected it to feel so good, because Yui hears his low grunt and tightens the hold her legs have on his hips, relishing in her own waves of pleasure. He holds himself for a tense moment, then sinks back in. She strokes every inch of him she can reach, from his back to his arms to his face, and kisses the hollow of his neck.

"It's so good, Daichi," she whispers sweet things into his ears. "Ahh. Just like that. Again.  _Hngg..."_

He keeps a slow rhythm, pausing when his tip's just barely at her entrance and when he's filled her to the brim, trembling each time from the pleasure.

"Faster now, maybe?" she requests, and he wordlessly nods once before thrusting into her harder.  _"Ah!"_ Yui's legs tighten again, pulling him into her. "Faster, again. Harder this time, Daichi. I want it, I want it, I  _want it."_

Daichi growls low, a sound she feels vibrating through his chest and against hers, before he plunges into her with no regard. This time the pleasure shoots through her like a shot of adrenaline, from her rapidly curling toes to every goosebump rising over her flesh.  _"Ah! Yes,_ just like that!"

He easily picks up this new flow, barely giving her a chance to steal back her breath before rolling back into her, then haphazardly pulling back out only to quickly sink into her again. It's by no means a perfect rhythm, more messy than it is smooth, but Yui tightens her legs to jut him forward and loosens her hold as he pulls back, aiding him in the motions of helping her find release.

 _"Yui,"_  he groans eventually, and she sees the familiar panic in his eyes when he peeks up at her. "Yui, I'm so close, I — fuck, I'm sorry but I—"

She pulls him into a sloppy kiss to shut him up, still pumping her legs to thrust him in and out of her. But a hand of her slinks down between them, sliding past their rocking hips and into the slippery heat of their joined sexes, until she rubs against her clit and a shiver causes her to arch up into him. Daichi flits down his gaze for a quick moment to check for what she's doing with her hand, but he seems not to care much while so engrossed in their kissing, so Yui unabashedly rubs her finger against the sensitive piece of flesh, in sync with their love-making.

Except Daichi grunts low again, another look of panic passing across his face that means he's growing ever closer, so she quickens the pace, grinding down hard on her clit as Daichi fucks her messily but thoroughly.

"Daichi, I'm close, too," she whimpers, adding another finger to help her reach the edge of the cliff with him.

He peels back her sweaty bangs and kisses her forehead. "Come with me."

"I'll go anywhere with you," she sighs dreamily, closing her eyes as she throws her head back on the pillow, so she misses the affection gleaming in his eyes.

"Then let's go," he whispers.

They hastily clasp their hands, gripping one another as he thrusts once, twice, and a third and final time before he convulses, his body going limp just as Yui tightens around his cock and blanks out from her own orgasm. She barely feels it when he collapses on top of her, numb from her own satisfaction as she rides out her trembles.

She does, however, feel the loss when Daichi slowly pulls himself out, a stream of her cum chasing after him.

"You could've stayed a little longer," she whines, breathing hard.

He looks up at her, clearly surprised and equally short of breath. "What for?"

She gently cups his face, then wrinkles her nose. "I don't know, actually. But I hear it's supposed to be romantic."

Daichi chuckles low, then swoops up to catch her bottom lip in a kiss. "Wasn't that romantic enough?"

Yui almost smiles fondly, except just then Daichi yanks off the condom and tosses it over the bed, and the slapping sound of it hitting the floor and possibly splattering cum everywhere causes her to make a horrid face instead. "Okay,  _that_ killed all the romance."

"Oh, did it?"

A sly smile is her only warning before Daichi lunges at her, smothering her delighted shriek with a deep kiss as he cradles her into his chest. Yui gives in quickly and slips her hands around his neck, returning his fervent attention. She doesn't protest when he rolls them over for her to lie on his chest, but now, after the passion of sex has passed, she can't help blushing when he fondles her ass.

"You're beautiful," he whispers.

"Thanks, so are you," she replies instantly.

They bump noses as they dissolve into snickers, then kiss until their exhaustion finally wins over them.

 

 

 

Yui stiffens when she hears stirring on the mattress behind her, pausing with her skirt halfway up her legs. When she dares to look over her shoulder, it's to find Daichi smiling wearily at her from behind a pillow. Always weak to her long-time crush, she returns it in full before snapping the band of her skirt into place over her waist.

"Finally awake, I see," she laughs, joining him on the bed. She notices Daichi eyeing her fully dressed figure and smooths down her skirt. She'd been in no mood to shower, not when she'd have to slip into previously rain-soaked clothes and stained panties after, so she'd just cleaned herself up as best as possible before getting dressed.

Daichi also glances down at the boxers he's wearing, silently asking for an explanation.

"I put them back on you," she tells him, swiping back the fringe that's beginning to take over his forehead. "Sleeping naked didn't look that comfortable."

He grins a handsome, crooked grin when she kisses his exposed forehead. "It was when you were with me."

"Hmm..." Yui smiles faintly, looking out the small window where the rain has finally stopped, and ignores the twisting in her gut. Now comes the hard part, and she doesn't even know where to begin. "Listen. Dai — Sawamura."

He glances at her in surprise, but she doesn't have the heart to glance back.

"Yui, what's this about?" he asks, seriously. A crease forms between his eyebrows, and normally she loves that crease — it's always attracted her, the way it gives him a serious sort of look — but right now she doesn't like it one bit. But she's had a lot of time to think about this as he'd slept (when she hadn't been sneaking glances at his cute sleeping face and trying not to smile), and she's come to a decision.

"Sawamura," she sighs, hooking one of his fingers with hers, "I like you."

He perks up. "Me, t—"

"But I don't want to have a relationship with you."

And there it is, finally said after an hour of fretting, hanging as a dense cloud between them.

"Ah. Well." She sadly shakes her head. "It's not that I don't  _want_ to. It's that I can't."

Daichi pulls together his stricken expression long enough to look confused. "Why not? Wait, you don't have a  _boyfriend_ —"

"I don't!" she reassures him quickly, and he breathes a sigh of relief. But it's not long lasting reassurance, because she drops her voice then and mutters, "But I  _did._ Have a boyfriend, I mean. Not long ago."

He returns to looking crushed, and Yui's lip trembles.

"His name was Naoto," she tells him. "We met in college, of course. He was a few years older but he still noticed me,  _liked_ me. So we went out for the whole year. He was my first  _everything._ Well... not my first love." She bites her lip. "That was you. But my first everything else, that was him. And I really,  _really_ liked him, and it was a really good relationship."

Her eyes dull suddenly, take on a spark of sadness. "But then he got offered an internship overseas and left a few months ago. And we tried to make it work long distance, we really did. We promised nothing would change. But it just wasn't working out and we were both miserable and fighting  _all the time._  And then, we had the most bitter break-up and w-we don't even...  _talk_ any more..."

Daichi frowns. "And you think that's going to happen to  _us?"_

"I think... that I've learned my lesson. Long distance relationships don't work. That's that." She breathes out slowly, sadly, then offers Daichi the best smile she can muster. "What happened here was really great, Sawamura. I've liked you for  _so long._ I've wanted  _this_  for so long. But... we've been good friends since middle school, and now we're so far apart from each other, a-and I don't want to risk that friendship by making it complicated with long distance."

Daichi wordlessly shakes his head, at a loss for words, and reaches for her hands in a last ditch attempt to hold her close.

"I'm sorry." She pulls her hands away and slides off the bed, looking just a little panicked. "I can't risk it."

"But I like you," he blurts out, looking desperate himself. He clambers out of the sheets tangled around his legs, but not quickly enough.

"I-I like you, too!" she sniffles back, her voice shrill.  _"So much,_ Sawamura. Which is why, if we meet again — I don't know, maybe when we visit for the holidays the next time — and  _this_ happened again? I-I wouldn't mind it! But until then, I just  _can't."_

"Yui—" he tries to reason with her. But she's already made it to the door.

"Thanks for showing me a good time, Sawamura," she mutters, smiling at him fondly as she scoops up her shoes. "Let's meet again soon, okay?"

The door slams shut behind her, and without the rain pelting down outside, there's only silence in her wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two will be posted once I'm finished writing chapter three!! (Rest assured, I'm almost there)!
> 
> Onto some words of gratitude.
> 
> First and foremost I must thank and hug and smooch and just shower _praises_ onto my friend [Autumn](https://twitter.com/ekstermi). She was the official-unofficial beta for this fic. She put up with me asking questions and gave me helpful advice and even once sat down and wrote a fic so I could use it as a reference! On top of that, she read every chapter for me and gave me _so_ much encouragement for my first try. Every chapter of this sin is Autumn tested and approved!
> 
> I must also thank [Remmi](https://twitter.com/tendousatori), another smut-writer senpai of mine who once spent an entire afternoon giving me facts and advice and answering all my questions about the anatomy of sin; it's a conversation I turned to many times while writing this.
> 
> Lastly, I want to thank everyone who has written DaiYui smut before me because you all inspired me to write my own and expand this little circle of DY sin that desperately needs more fics. Y'all are champions :>
> 
> Okay! See you all for chapter two! AND HAPPY DAIYUI DAY!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, folks. This chapter has a lot more story to get through than the first, since I had to go and give this sin some sort of plot, haha. But it's not without smut, so don't worry!
> 
> There's a time leap somewhere in the middle, but I tried to make it fairly obvious when it happens, so there shouldn't be any confusion.
> 
> Thank you again to my friend Autumn for all her help and advice with this chapter *kisses* C:

* * *

 

Mao is unimpressed by her decision. Rather, she's downright disapproving.

"Are you  _serious?"_ she drawls, following Yui from her dresser to her closet to the suitcase laid open on her bed, her eyes narrowed. "You've liked Sawamura for who knows how long, and finally he returns your feelings but you  _turn him down?"_

"This is exactly why I didn't tell you what happened between us," Yui huffs, carefully folding her pajamas to stuff into her bag. Her friend had badgered her incessantly all week, asking at the most inopportune moments what had happened between her and Sawamura, but it wasn't until now, hours before their train back to university and in the midst of hectic packing, that Yui had gotten fed up enough to spill. She's regretting the slip of her tongue. "I knew you would react like this."

"Of course I would, you're clearly miserable about it," Mao scoffs. "And it's so unlike you, Yui, to sleep with a guy but not want a relationship? I mean, you've only slept with one other guy but..."

 _"Exactly,"_ Yui hisses, tossing her shirt into the bag and picking up the matching bottoms. Her face hardens, and she waves out the wrinkles perhaps a bit too snappishly. "I've only slept with one other guy and look how  _that_  turned out."

Mao stiffens, remembering every bitter phone call Yui had ever had with her ex. "That's what this is about? You think Sawamura is going to turn out like Tsuchiya? Yui, Tsuchiya was a liar and a cheater—"

"But he was right, wasn't he!" she cuts across, her voice shrill. Her hands tremble as she sets down her pants. "Being in a long-distance relationship is _so lonely,_  Mao. It's constantly missing your partner and feeling bitter that you can't see them, a-and I-I—"

"Oh, Yui," Mao says, when she notices her chin wobble, and doesn't waste a moment scooping her friend into her arms. Yui turns and buries her face in her chest. "Don't fall for his bullshit justification for what he did. You know Sawamura would never."

"I  _know._ But... things were falling apart between Naoto-kun and me for a long time, Mao. And I like Sawamura  _so much._  We're  _friends,_ we have been for so long. I don't want that to fall apart just because we risked it," she whispers, using the collar of Mao's shirt to wipe at newly forming tears. Her friend doesn't mind one bit. "It's...  _better_  this way."

"And you're okay with seeing him just once a year?"

"Of course I'm not okay with it." She pulls back, and suddenly her eyes look so tired. "But I've learned my lesson. So I'll  _have_  to be okay with it."

"Did you at least get Sawamura's number?" Mao asks, looking pretty tired herself.

Yui looks away guiltily. "No."

"Why not!"

 _"Because!_ Getting his number felt like agreeing to a relationship or something!" She turns back to her suitcase to avoid Mao's frustrated stare, and repeats, mostly to herself, "It's better this way."

Mao has just one more question. A hand on her hip, she wants to know, "Are you going to sleep with him again?"

Yui shrugs one shoulder, her expression completely unreadable. "That's for Sawamura to decide. Maybe... he'll never forgive me for what I did."

Her suitcase shuts with a loud  _snap._

 

 

 

The school year drags on slowly.

They reunite with Chizuru, who'd had no time for a home visit with all her club activities, and the girls spend that first night holed up in Yui and Mao's dorm, unpacking and laughing over high school stories.

"You and Sawamura-kun?" the girl squeaks, instantly turning red. "Wow. Yui. You've wanted this for so long, congrats."

She chuckles sheepishly, a hand mussing up her hair in her usual bad habit. "Thanks..."

Mao can't resist shooting another disapproving look her way, but there's no more talk of boys for the night and it's probably for the best.

Yui is ecstatic to rediscover old friends in new classes, most especially to find that she has  _two_  classes with Mao and even one with Chizuru. The start of the school year shapes up quite well. It's nice. But it all goes downhill from there.

Breakfast is a nice affair and Yui practically  _skips_  into her first classroom, but as soon as she's seated and the professor pulls up his slides, suddenly it's impossible to focus on the lesson. She fidgets and shakes her knee to the point that several students glare at her from down the aisle, but even forcing herself to stare at the blackboard isn't enough to clear her muddled mind.

And there, antsy and disoriented in math class, is when Sawamura first pops into her mind. More accurately, his adorable, crooked smile when he'd woken up in that hotel room to find her halfway dressed but still  _there._

She jerks up in her seat, ignores the confused stares directed at her back, and ducks her flaming face.

That's week one. The following weeks bring about the same kind of torture; remembering that first sight of his bare chest in Biology, the first touch of his hardened cock in Japanese, and the indescribable pleasure of his hips smashing into hers in the middle of volleyball practice with the ball headed straight for her.

"What's up with you, Yui?" Mao tuts, pressing ice to the bruise on her forehead. "We've got a match next week. Get it together."

"Get it together," Yui repeats softly, staring down at her kneepads, reminded of how it had felt to kiss Sawamura's knee as she'd shimmied his shorts down his calves. "Right. I... can do that."

They lose their first practice match. Yui is relieved in a strange way, because it hadn't been her fault after all — she'd kept her libido forcefully in check, no matter how much the thrill of standing on a volleyball court always reminds her of  _him_  — but she consoles a sobbing Rena and thinks that this isn't how captains are meant to act. Captains aren't meant to be distracted by boys who live miles away, by the one boy she had purposely left behind for the sake of keeping her sanity in the first place. Captains aren't meant to be relieved when they lose because at least it had not been  _their_  desires that had cost them the match. If Sawamura had been here, he would only have been disapproving.

"I'll get it together," Yui tells Mao in a low voice, when they're the only ones in the changing room.

The blonde glances at her in surprise, but she must see something burning in her friend's eyes because her own burn in reply. She nods once, before they shut their lockers in unison.

After that, things are easier. Simpler. Algorithms are all she thinks about in Math, cell replication the only thing in Biology, and her impending doom (also known as her first exam) in Japanese. Volleyball is easiest to fall into, a love older than even Sawamura, and they've got yet another practice match coming up that she's rallied her team together for with the promise of a victory this time. There's no time for boys, much less ones she hasn't seen in a month now and probably won't again for a long time to come.

But it's still a struggle, sometimes, to see the boys' volleyball team pass their gym during their morning run and not imagine a deeper voice calling out those encouragements, to see sweat sticking to the back of that T-shirt and—

_Ah! Yui... you're amazing..._

A bump to her shoulder brings her back to reality, and Mao glares at her purposefully from over her shoulder. "I hope you're drooling because we're getting barbecue tonight and not because you're thinking of You-Know-Who." Yui hastily wipes at her lips, put out to find that they're completely dry, but Mao follows her line of sight to the boys' team captain.  _"Or_  because you're interested in the boys' captain? Because I'm all for that."

"I thought you said no boys?" Yui shoots back suspiciously.

"No, I said 'get it together.' As in, Sawamura is a memory and you've already made that choice. I won't keep you from boys in our more, uh,  _immediate_  vicinity."

"Mao,  _please,"_  Yui whines, rubbing away the red on her cheeks as she stalks past her friend. "I'm not interested in him. The only thing I'm interested in right now is volleyball and barbecue."

Mao smirks. "Ah, yes, your long withstanding love for  _beef."_

Yui trips spectacularly over her own two feet.

Her knees are still stinging a little at dinner that night, something Mao tries to remedy by pushing cups of sake her way over the table. The oily smile on her face and Chizuru's occasional snorts into her hands might have irked some, but Yui has always been a sucker for laughter; her mouth twitches twice as she tries to fight it, but a grin breaks across her face as she chugs the cup and sticks out a tongue at her best friend.

 _"There_  it is," Mao croons affectionately, hiding her own smile behind the rim of her glass. At Yui's confused stare, she adds, "You haven't been smiling enough lately."

"You  _have_  been a little mopey," Chizuru quietly adds, fiddling with her own cup but yet to take a sip. "And our weekly Saturday-night-sleep-over-and-watch-chick-flicks-in-our-most-comfiest-jammies parties only seemed to make you sad?"

"Is  _that_  what this night is about?" Yui asks incredulously, more than a little touched. "Were you trying to cheer me up?"

"And also weasel out a reason— _oof!"_ Mao crabbily rubs her side after a sharp jab from Chizuru's bony elbow, but obediently shuts her mouth.

Yui grins at her friends, before quietly sighing down at her drink. She watches the ice float, so packed together it can barely wiggle in her drink. "You could have just asked instead of going to all the trouble. It's because I didn't do so good on my first Bio exam a couple weeks back."

"But you love that class!" Chizuru gasps. "And you studied so hard."

"Yeah, well... I was having a little trouble, um, concentrating in class at first?" She cringes, thinking of dangerous, months-old thoughts of a handsome, crooked smile she's been trying her best to forget. "So I fell behind."

"Did you fall asleep with your eyes open again?" Mao clucks her tongue.

"Not this time," Yui giggles. "Though I wish."

Both girls shoot her curious looks, but she's saved from an answer when the door to their room slides open and their yukata-clad waiter bows formally on the floor, a tray of chilled meat at his side. Mao eagerly pats the open space before her on the table, staring ravenously as the boy passes over their order. But Yui is surprised to glance up, mid laugh, to find that he's staring right at  _her._

Their eyes meet, and she's further surprised when he turns bright red in color, hastens into a bow, and makes a quick exit after mumbling the typical, "Enjoy your meal." He doesn't stop wringing his napkin once.

Yui clacks her teeth together, turning in confusion to her friends, but they don't seem to have noticed a thing.

 _"God,_  how long has it been since we've had  _meat?"_ Mao says, dropping a slab on their grill. She pauses for a moment. "Oh, and Yui, this might be your cheer-up dinner but we're still splitting the bill three ways."

 _"Mao!"_  Chizuru jabs her again.

"What? Meat is expensive!"

Yui bursts into laughter, almost falling back on her cushion from giggling so much, and both her friends fondly shake their heads her way. Their waiter's red face becomes yet another forgotten memory.

It's a nice night. Yui is determined to make it so, at least. It's the first time not thinking about Sawamura hasn't felt like a  _chore_. She loses herself in stories of her best friends and the best barbecue she's probably ever had (courtesy of Mao's self-proclaimed perfect grilling technique), topping off the night with a sake cup that never seems to empty.

"Yui sure can hold her drink and I don't think anyone saw that coming," Mao notes. Chizuru nods along, but their waiter, halfway through cleaning up their empty plates, glances quickly at Yui from the corners of his eyes.

She laughs softly, a lighter sound than usual to match her tinged cheeks, and just takes another sip. The waiter seems mesmerized, though this time, even Yui doesn't notice.

"Another round of sake, then?" Mao requests of him, wriggling their jug that's just melting ice by now.

"R-Right. Of course!"

"Then we'll get out of your hair," she promises with a laugh.

His eyes pop. "Oh, n-no, you're not a bother at all! In fact, I—" All three of them hear his audible swallow, before his gaze once again lands on Yui's face. Her earnest expression only makes him turn an even deeper shade of red. "I-I was actually wondering if... if I could have your number?"

Mao and Chiziru gasp melodramatically for effect, bumping their heads together and leaning in close to hear Yui's answer. Yui, for her part, however, seems absolutely stunned.

Her mouth falls open. "Uh..."

"I promise I'm not some creep or something!" he hurries to say. "We actually have a class together. I've, um, been wanting to ask for a while but never had a chance until you came in this evening."

He looks at her hopefully from under his lashes — pretty, long ones that would probably get him scouted as an eyelashes model if such a thing existed — but Yui only stares down at her hands guiltily.

"Ahh... you're really sweet but... I'm actually not looking to date anyone right now," she tells him awkwardly.

"O-Oh." His face crumples fast, and he turns his tray round and round in his hands. "Oh, well, that's okay. Just... if you ever  _are_ , now you know I'm an option." With an equally awkward smile at all three of the girls, he shuffles out of their room.

The door slides shut behind him, but still the three girls sit in tense silence, until an entirely new waiter comes into their room a moment later with a jug of sake. Yui puts her head down on the table, covers her face, and groans loudly.

"Why turn him down?" Mao asks, refilling their cups. "He was cute."

"He was, but... not my type." She wrinkles her nose, despite the guilt still dripping off of her. "Too pretty."

"You could have at least gotten a night of fun out of him." She ignores Chizuru's third jab of the night.

Yui sighs, accepting her cup, and mumbles, "I don't want to sleep with anyone."

"—who's not Sawamura," Mao finishes, never missing a beat.

Chizuru completely foregoes the jab this time and opts for a horrified,  _"Mao!"_  The night had been serving as such a good distraction so far, after all.

But Yui curls her hands around her cup, swipes at the condensation, and admits in a quiet voice, "Yes. I only want to sleep with Sawamura."

 

 

 

The rest of the night is quiet. Yui gets into bed early in the morning, and as she stares at light dancing on her dark ceiling, a small part of her wonders whether a waitress in Sawamura's class had found the courage to ask him out tonight. Whether he had said yes.

Tonight had been about forgetting her long-time crush, but it's never been harder to stop thinking about him.

"Hey, Mao?" she whispers to her friend, still staring up. "Do you think Sawamura ever thinks about me, too?"

"Mm..." There's rustling from the bed on the other side of the room, before Mao's groggy voice mumbles into the dark, "Yui, go to sleep."

"Yeah..."

But she closes her eyes and Sawamura's hard, naked form overtakes the darkness. Something burns in her sleeping shorts as she reminisces him slipping into her, slow, careful, and she swears she can hear him breathing next to her ear. Maybe that's her own quickened breathing.

She peeks across the room; Mao is faced away, her shoulders rising evenly in her sleep.

Yui thinks of every sensation of that illicit encounter — hips rocking against hers, a nose buried between her breasts, Sawamura's cock pressed against her sweet spot — and slides a hand under her blanket, her fingers easing past the band of her shorts and between her legs.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Karasuno hasn't changed at all in two years' time, Yui marvels. It still comes into view in a burst of cherry blossoms, standing white and proud in contrast to the black-clad students slowly milling out of the building, relieved for the end of the school day.

"I still have my old uniform," Yui laughs, dodging her way in the opposite direction of the crowd, into the high school. Mao and Chizuru follow close behind. "I think it's in my closet. I bet I could still fit in it!"

"Kinky," Mao drawls, and cracks a smile when Yui sticks out her tongue.

"So, who should we visit first!" she asks, bouncing eagerly on her heels. "Mutou-sensei? What about the vice-principal? Any bets on his wig color?"

"How about Kaori-sensei?" Chizuru suggests quietly. Kaori-sensei had been the silent advisor for the girls' volleyball team for as long as the girls had been on the team; she hadn't known a thing about volleyball nor attended practices, but she'd kept her name on the official records as their advisor so they wouldn't be forced to disband.

"Good idea!" Yui beams, taking both their hands and yanking them down the hall. "Should we try her classroom? The teacher's lounge?"

"The gym," Mao immediately suggests.

"But she never went in there."

"It's about time for the team budget review, though, isn't it?" Mao points out, then shrugs. "She would drop by for those. We could risk it, and even if she's not there we can pop in on the team."

Every old classroom they pass is like a fresh new memory. Last year's return to Miyagi hadn't allowed them time for a high school visit, but Yui finds it twice as exciting to find that nothing has really changed at all, even after all this time. Same old classrooms, teachers, uniforms, club posters. Same old gymnasium, from her fondest memories as a student.

"It looks so much smaller than it used to, doesn't it?" she says affectionately, hands on her hips. "Compared to our uni one especially."

Her two friends nod along, but Yui perks more eagerly when she hears a distant squeak that echoes past the double doors before them. "Oh! I think practice is going on right now, you guys!" Crossing the distance in three skips, she laughs, "Let's peek inside!"

It takes a little huff and an extra strong tug to pull open the double doors, but a gust of wind blows through her hair just as she does, and she inhales sharply as she sticks her head inside. At the exact same instant, however, someone from inside sticks their head out. Their foreheads knock together.

 _"Ouch!"_  Both parties stumble back, clutching their heads. Yui hears her friends scrambling to join her and dazedly opens her eyes.  _"Oh, my gosh!_  I'm so,  _so_  sorry! I didn't think anyone would —  _Sugawara?"_

There's only a mop of silver hair in proper view at first, but then the boy shakes his throbbing head and peeks out sheepishly from behind long bangs, and their eyes meet. "Hey, Michimiya," he chuckles, good-natured as always, then nods behind her. "Aihara. Sasaki."

Yui's grin almost cracks her cheeks. "It  _is_ you!"

He's steady as he catches her in his arms, even if the strength of her jump-hug pulls a small  _"oomph!"_ out of him, but then they're both beaming at one another. "Long time, no see! Are you here to visit during break as well?"

"Yeah, we got here a few days ago!" she tells him eagerly, still hanging off him and not seeming aware of it one bit. "We thought it'd be nice to visit some old teachers, you know? What are the  _odds_ that you'd be here on the same day! Isn't everything just as you remember? I saw my old homeroom on the way over here and I  _swear_ that was the same creepy, ghoul-looking stain on the back wall from when Mutou-sensei tripped with his cup of coffee—"

"Ah, wait," Suga interrupts her apologetically, glancing over his shoulder. Something he sees makes him perk up, and Yui curiously gets on her toes to see over him as well. "Just as I thought. Here he comes."

It's not that it hadn't crossed Yui's mind that he would be here. Maybe not  _here,_ at their old high school the very same moment as her, but as she'd been packing for her return home she'd thought of a steady back and short, spiked hair and a crooked smile. She'd wondered more than once whether he'd found another girl to kiss like they'd kissed. Thoughts of him over the last few months had been dark and filthy and butterflies-in-her-stomach worthy, all at once. If anything, she'd realized long ago he might be the only boy who'd ever make her feel this  _strongly._

But all that wipes from her mind the moment Sawamura Daichi steps through the double doors, grinning that familiar grin that adorably lifts at just one end and makes her palms sweat.

Then his gaze shifts from Suga's face to hers, and he's not smiling anymore. His expression melts to one of polite shock. "Wh..."

Their eyes simultaneously drop down to her hands — rather, her tight hold on Sugawara's torso, where she's still hanging off him in a tight embrace. Yui scrambles furiously to push herself off, batting at her clothes to straighten them, but Suga only laughs.

"Don't hug him  _too_ hard, Michimiya," he teases. "Daichi's not as strong as me. His ribs might break."

Her eyes pop. "Uhh. No, I!"

 _"Suga,"_ Sawamura says in a warning tone, shooting him a hard look. The shock seems to have passed, and he only looks slightly exasperated by Suga's teasing, but Yui wonders what it means that he won't look at her.

The setter laughs again. "Okay, okay. No hug, then. I'm just making things more awkward during this joyous reunion, aren't I?"

Yui fights down an intense flush. It  _had_ occurred to her that Sawamura had probably told him they'd slept together, just like she had told her best friends. But it's embarrassing realizing everyone gathered at the moment knew exactly what had happened between the two of them.

"So are we," Mao pipes up behind her, linking arms with a surprised Chizuru. "What do you say we get out of here and let these two, uh, talk stuff out?"

Yui almost jumps. It's all so sudden! "M-Mao—"

 _"Great_ idea, Aihara," Suga booms, hopping down the stairs to the gym, leaving only Yui and Sawamura at the top step. "I wanted some help tracking down Takeda-sensei anyway. He wasn't in the gym and we  _have_ to greet him first, of course."

"Of course," Mao pipes up, and falls into step with him as he strides past the two girls. Chizuru just allows herself to be pulled along, looking like she's not sure what's happening. "We'll come get you when we find Kaori-sensei."

"Uh, weren't we going to look for her in the gym?" she points out weakly.

The look Mao shoots her then is practically  _devious._ "Come on, Yui. She  _never_ went in there."

She leaves stunned silence in her wake, as well as two equally uncomfortable people who catch each other's eyes before quickly glancing away. Yui plays with the hem of her shirt, while he cups his neck and looks off into the distance, both looking for something to say.

"Uh," he pipes up first, then jerks his chin to their side. "Should we move away from the door?"

"Yeah, okay..." she agrees, and obediently trails after him to the back of the gym, where they're certainly more alone and less likely to be walked in on. Nothing to save her from this conversation now, she thinks, as her back presses against the gym wall.

They let the wind whistle at first. Sawamura shoves his fists in his pockets and sways in an adorable, unsure way that's really not fair to her. Yui breathes in sharply. "Listen, Sawamura..."

"It's okay."

She stammers over her tongue before she's even begun talking, staring him down cautiously. She feels a little like it's one of those moments when he would lecture her for losing sight in her herself — one of the rare times she felt truly timid and small around him. But Sawamura smiles at her kindly, just like all those times he let her off the hook.

"It's okay?" she repeats quietly, not sure what to make of it.

"Yeah." He runs a hand through his hair. "It's okay. You don't have to apologize or explain yourself or anything. I get it."

Yui squeezes her eyes shut and tries to make sense of everything. Of every gut-clenching scenario she'd imagined in their time apart, she hadn't expected Sawamura to forgive her so easily. This wasn't about a moment of self-doubt he disapproved of, after all, but a complete betrayal of his feelings.

"A year was a long time to think," he carries on promptly, "and I get it. You were just scared and trying to protect us. And me, I'm not going to force you into a relationship you wouldn't be happy with." His kind smile softens even further, perhaps at the disbelief on her face, and he gently tucks a lock of wind-swept hair off her forehead. "Don't look at me like that."

"B-B-But!" She uselessly flaps her hands. "I thought you'd be _so mad_  at me! I-I mean, I ran out  _right_ after we..."

He shrugs. "Michimiya, we're two adults now. Sex doesn't have to mean anything."

Her stomach twists harshly at those words. Perhaps Sawamura didn't get everything after all, and she wants to tell him as much.

But he doesn't pause. "We're friends first, right?"

She hesitates once, but then relaxes enough to even grin back. "...Right!"

He cups his neck again as they delve into silence, his expression one of bashfulness she'd never seen on his face before they'd become intimate. She likes it too much.

"Uh." His tongue flicks out to wet his lips. "Maybe this is overstepping my bounds a little, but... I thought about you a lot, Michimiya."

He smiles a little unsurely, and Yui's heart races.

Suddenly she's brought back to lonely nights in her dorm room, Mao asleep in the bed opposite. Blankets pulled to her waist. Sweat gleaming on her forehead. Hand buried in her shorts. Fingers pulsing into her sex. Rattling headboard. Almost drawing blood as she bit down on her lip. Sweet, blinding white behind her eyelids as she uncoiled.  _Longing._

"I thought about you, too," she tells him.

 

 

 

Mao catches the shorts she flings at her with one hand. "Wow, Yui. You're pretty brave. Dinner with Sawamura tonight?"

"I have _no idea_ how it happened!" she squawks, her face poking out from her closet. There's panic radiating off every inch of her. "I'm still trying to process that I even  _saw_  him today, and now I have to be  _alone_  with him?" She disappears into the mound of clothes again.

"You're the one who said yes, though," Chizuru quietly points out.

"Sort of?" She groans, a muffled sound. "He was like, 'We're friends, right?' So of course I said, 'Right.' Then he said that if we're friends we can totally hang out. And I was like, 'Uhh.' Because that's not such a good idea, you know? But I'd already  _said_  we were friends! What could I do, turn him down and then he asks me why and I ruin the friendship forever? And Sawamura promised this is just dinner because we both said we missed each other a lot and, and, and — _ugh."_ She groans again.

"So is he taking you out?" Mao wants to know.

She shakes her head. "Cooking in."

Both her friends glance at each other, then sing in unison, "Date!"

"Domestic style," Mao adds. "Like you're five-year-old lovers."

 _"Not_ a date," Yui furiously argues. "Sawamura says he understands my decision of not wanting a relationship."

"If it's not a date then why are you going out of your way to pick an unflattering outfit?"

"Because! I like him  _so much._ I'll admit it, okay? I need to do  _something_  to keep from..."

"Humping his brains out?" Mao offers, smirking.

Yui buries her burning face in one hand, but waves the other about in defeat. "Yes. That."

"Well, your giant Rilakkuma T-shirt is probably the most unflattering piece of clothing I can think of. It's basically a dress on you. Remember, you won it at that cultural festival stall in our second year?"

"Yes!" Yui lights up, digging back into her closet to yank the shirt out of a dark corner. It's big enough to fit two Sawamuras and smother one small Yui. "And I loved this shirt a lot, excuse you. It's comfy."

"Comfy is another word for hideous," Mao drawls, making Chizuru giggle. "So, perfect."

"As long as it'll keep me and Sawamura from... doing what you said." She cringes at that, tossing the T-shirt to her bed. "But what a coincidence it was, that we all happened to choose the same day to go visit the high school, huh?"

"Right. Coincidence." Both Yui and Chizuru glance at Mao in surprise, who smiles in an oily way. "Or maybe I  _happened_  to bump into Sugawara in the market a couple days ago, and maybe we happened to make plans to visit Karasuno on the same day, and maybe we decided to accidentally-on-purpose bump into each other outside the gym."

 _"Mao!_  I can't believe you!" Yui stares at her crudely, her tone accusing. "We didn't even see Kaori-sensei."

"Yui, you were clearly miserable and dying to see Sawamura. I just helped you make it happen." She holds up both hands. "And the Kaori-sensei thing was out of my control. We really did look for her. Now go hump Sawamura, would you?"

"Not a date!" she whines, and throws her giant T-shirt over Mao's head.

 

 

 

Yui might have been able to control her own appearance, but she hadn't factored in how handsome Sawamura has always been in her eyes. She'd opted for cute little shorts due to the summer heat, but the giant shirt hides her figure perfectly and a messy bun in her hair completes the "comfortable" look. But Sawamura opens the door in a T-shirt that's practically sculpted against his chest, and her knees almost give in.

He stops grinning — _thank god_  — long enough to glance inquiringly at her hands. "Flowers?"

"Th-They're for Sawamura-san," she chokes out, then elaborates, "Your mom."

"Ah." His fingers tousle into his hair as he accepts her gift. "Well, my parents aren't home tonight. But she'll love the sentiment. I'll put them in a vase. Thank you, Michimiya."

So they're alone, Yui realizes, and pales as she's invited in.

Despite her drumming heartbeat, however, even she can't resist what she can smell wafting through the house as she takes off her shoes. "Mmm! Smells good! Did you cook it all?"

"Yeah." He seems almost shy to admit it. "I had to learn for, well,  _survival_ purposes." Her laugh makes him smile.

"So you really  _can_ do it all," she muses, as he leads her into the kitchen. He's already set the table for two, and she almost melts at the pretty sight. "In high school, I thought you were some perfect boy who was capable of literally  _anything._ It was kinda silly, now that I think about it." He pulls out her chair, and she laughs loudly as she takes her seat. "But you're getting there, aren't you?"

"It's just something simple," he excuses himself, but Yui swears when he turns away she spies a very light shade of pink creeping onto his neck. So enraptured by the color, she doesn't look when she puts her purse down on the table and instead it slips to the floor.

"Oh! Oops!" In her scramble to pick it up, something small and shiny slips from inside, catching her eye. Yui picks it up and stares at it curiously, and it's with a burst of mortification that she recognizes the gold-foiled packet. A little sticky note attached to it reads,  _Safe sex is the best sex. -Mao_

"What's that?"

Sawamura’s question makes her  _shoot_ back up in a flurry of flailing hands and reddening cheeks. She shoves the condom  _deep_ into her purse, then hangs the bag on the chair behind her, out of his line of sight. "N-Nothing! Just something that fell out of my purse! S-So, let's eat?"

She makes grabby hands for the salad in his grasp, and he only eyes her curiously for a moment longer before handing her the bowl and returning to the counter for the rest of their food.

"I hope I'm not overstepping any boundaries again, Michimiya?" he asks cautiously, slipping into the seat across from her. "I mean, we're friends, right? I wanted us to hang out together, as friends. Like old times. I, uh, even asked Suga if he'd liked to come but he had some plans he said he couldn't tell me about."

 _Of course he did._ "Don't worry about it, Sawamura!" she tells him cheerily, kicking her legs under the table, and ignores how softly he looks at her. "I missed you a lot. I'm glad we could see each other. Now, can we stop being so cheesy, please?"

He chuckles low when she scrunches her nose, picking up his chopsticks. "I shouldn't have put cheese in the noodles, then."

"Your jokes are terrible," she groans, shuffling fish into her mouth. "Mm! But your cooking is good! So I forgive you." She grins cheekily and he returns it in a perfect imitation, and Yui dissolves into laughter.

After that, things are light. They're not old flames who'd shared one night of passion and spent one year in longing. They're old, old friends from middle school reuniting after too long a time, with so many stories to tell and each with a partner wanting to hear every detail. That's something she's always liked about Sawamura; he's always made her feel like she  _matters,_ even when she feels like she doesn't.

"So it started off kinda bad, but I completely turned around my Bio grade by the end of the year," she boasts, and he smiles at her gently.

"I knew you would, Michimiya."

In a bit of a dorky fashion, he holds out his glass and she clinks hers against his, beaming.

Dinner ends too quickly. Between the two of them, they finish everything, but Sawamura doesn't make her feel self-conscious about it like Naoto always used to.

 _Ahh, stop comparing them, Yui!_  she berates herself, hopping up to help him pick up the dishes. Sawamura is not an ex, or even a current, boyfriend. It's not fair to look at him in such a light, as if she's testing him somehow, when she'd been the one to turn down any chance at a relationship.

They plop the dishes down in the sink. "Leave them here. I'll get them in the morning," he tells her, reaching for a towel to wipe his hands on. Yui leans against the fridge and stares at him closely under the kitchen light, lips pursed, and he notices. "What?"

"Your hair's gotten longer, hasn't it?" she notes fondly. Something had been different about him since the moment they'd met again, she'd been sure about it. His hair's grown just a little past his ears, even though he'd always kept it so neatly trimmed in high school.

"It looks nice," she murmurs. And in a thoughtless action, a few of her fingers gently brush back the locks.

He shudders lightly when she trails along the shell of his ear, closing his eyes at the sensation.

Yui stills, staring at the way his expression shifts, stunned and captivated and a little frightened all at once. Her chest squeezes.

"Ah! S-Sorr..." She yanks her hand away, taking it into her grasp as if to keep it from acting on its own again, and bites her lip. "Sorry."

He breathes out slowly, like he's trying to steady himself, before opening his eyes. "It's okay. I didn't have time to get it cut because of exams."

She shakes her head, muddled. "What?"

"My hair?" He shoots her a strange look.

"Oh! Oh, right! Yes, of course, exam time is so busy and everything, who really has time for a haircut? I mean, look at my hair, it's a total rat's nest! I haven't been bothered to cut it in so long and now, look, it's a home for little birdies!"

Desperate to make things right, she grabs the tie in her hair and hastily yanks out her bun. Her hair swishes past her ears and pools at her shoulders, messily framing her face.

Sawamura stares at her with hard, gleaming eyes, looking like he's stopped breathing altogether. Yui holds still as he rakes his hand through one side of her hair, like she'd done to him, and tucks it behind her ear.

"I think it's soft and pretty," he tells her.

Yui nervously looks down, gazing at him from under her lashes.

He pulls away just as quickly. "So, how about a movie?" he suggests, like he hadn't just made her heart absolutely burst, and moves around her. "We could see what's on TV. You're not in a rush, right?"

The answer to that should have been,  _Yes, I am,_  Yui thinks, staring at a picture of Sawamura as a toddler taped to the fridge and willing herself to breathe. He's breaking down each of her defenses so easily. Instead, she mumbles some intangible answer and follows him to the living room, shoving her hair-tie in her bag on the way.

Yui plops down on the rug at one end of the couch, pulling her knees to her chest, and hopes Sawamura would somehow read her mind and take the spot all the way on the other end of the couch, far, far away from her. But he settles down right at her side, one leg casually curled against himself, so close that their arms touch and she feels his skin on hers. She swallows.

"You okay with this?" Sawamura murmurs, and she almost jumps out of her skin until she realizes he means the action movie he's found.

"Um, sure. Anything is fine."

He gives her a quick smile before turning to the movie and losing himself in it. But Yui sees the goosebumps on his arm and wonders if he's cold, or if, like hers, they're for a completely different reason.

She puts her chin on her knees and tries to lose herself in the movie as well. It's quite an old one that she's actually seen before, so Sawamura probably has too, but they both still dutifully stare at the film instead of each other.

It's not like the light and easy dinner. She's so aware of every movement he makes, every shift and every exhale and every brush against her arm. It feels just like being back in high school and being absolutely smitten; the only thing that's changed now is they're no longer in high school. They're adults who make their own adult decisions with adult consequences. Adult pleasures. She swallows again.

"D-Daichi?" she whispers, glancing at him cautiously, clutching her knees for dear life.

His whole frame stills at first, and a crease forms between his eyebrows, as if he doesn't believe he's heard right. He's still frowning as he turns to her, just as the scene in the movie goes white and throws light over his face to accentuate his handsome features.

And Yui abandons her knees to grasp his face and take his lips with hers.

His eyes widen just as hers shut, as she presses against his mouth with everything she has in a rushed, hard kiss. Even when he's surprised he instinctively angles his jaw and moves it slow against hers, accepting her frenzied tongue and reciprocating the passion. There's a  _thunk_ as the remote slips from his fingers, and then his large hands find her hips.

"Michi—" he tries to grunt, but she hitches herself onto her knees and melts into him, hands hooked around his neck. The heated kiss resumes again. "Wait, Mich..."

He almost looks pained to do so when he grips her shoulders and yanks her away, freeing his mouth to gasp in air.

 _"Daichi,"_ she whimpers, already trying to claw her way back. But he's much stronger.

"What is  _this_ about?" he pants, completely confused. "You said you didn't want..."

"I was lying to you and myself," she says urgently, stroking his cheeks. "You're so handsome, Daichi. And I like you  _so much._ I want to have sex with you  _so badly."_

Despite himself, a dash of red bursts across his cheeks. He loudly clears his throat. "I don't understand. Until this afternoon you said this couldn't go anywhere."

"It's just one night, Daichi. Isn't it fine?" She trails her palms down his soft, cotton T-shirt, feeling out his chest, and swears he's bigger than before. Her hands pause at the hem of his shirt, and she looks up at him expectantly. "We've done it before."

His grip on her hips tightens, but he whispers, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No," she admits in a quiet voice, before a hand slips under his shirt to touch skin. "But it  _feels_  kinda good right now, doesn't it?"

He inhales sharply when she lays a palm flat against him, dragging it back up his abs to feel him without a barrier this time, awed by how warm he is. She remembers that from last time: his warmth.

"Yui, I don't have some infinite self-control," he tries to warn her, shutting his eyes.

But she quirks her lips at that. "You called me Yui."

This time he doesn't stop her when she leans into another kiss, brushing him at first, but then taking his bottom lip into her mouth. She yanks him into a rough kiss, arms encircling his neck to hold him close, moaning low into his mouth. Daichi slowly rises to his knees as well, overpowering her mouth with his own, and strokes her tongue in unison with how she strokes his.

As she'd done to him, his hands drag haphazardly down her sides, feeling her out through her giant shirt. Yui is reminded of how she'd worn a hideous shirt just to hold off his advances. A load of good that had done, for Daichi doesn't even hesitate as he takes her hem and yanks it, in one fluid motion, up to her chest. She gasps to have her breasts exposed so suddenly, almost pulling away from his mouth, but his lips trail after hers as if forbidding her to back out  _now._

"Hmm..." Yui trembles when he moves down to her neck, leaving long, deep kisses on his trail, before shoving her shirt up farther and ducking down to her breasts. He buries his face between them. "Ah!"

She remembers how gentle he’d been with her last time, so slow and careful about how he gave her pleasure. There is nothing gentle this time with how he nips at her breasts, his mouth finding one to suck as he rubs up her nipple with his tongue. She tries to squirm, so unused to the intensity, when he grips them both hard and begins to knead them with his thumbs.

“Mm, _Daichi!”_ she whines, her back falling against the couch.

He pulls away abruptly, and she almost whines even louder at _that,_ nowhere near ready to stop. But he’s panting uncontrollably, something primal in his eyes, and only grips the hem of her bunched up shirt to yank it over her head.

Surprised into obedience, Yui raises her arms and lets him slip it off.

It’s only then, when he’s staring at her exposed, trembling chest, that he realizes, “You’re not wearing anything underneath.”

Yui flushes. “W-Well, it’s _hot_ and the shirt is kinda big so… I thought I could make do without.”

Then she has to wonder whether any part of her had really wanted to hold off Sawamura’s advances at all.

Daichi’s gaze burns even hotter at that, and he leans in to growl against her neck, nose dipping to her chest before he resumes, his hands even rougher than before as they squeeze her breasts.

Yui slides her fingers into the hairs on the back of his neck, pulling him close and arching into his eager mouth. She shuts her eyes, tips her head onto the cushion, and just enjoys how he _ravishes_ her so desperately.

All too soon, he’s pulling back again.

“Daichi,” she whimpers, even though her nipples tingle and beg her for a break.

“Yui, we can’t, we don’t have a—” he pants dazedly, his eyes glassed over. He doesn’t want to stop even more than she does, and Yui wants him right then and there.

“Yes, we do,” she stammers, trying to clear her head. “In my purse. In the kitchen. There’s one Mao put in there.”

He automatically gets to his feet, kissing her on the way up, and mumbles a quick “I’ll go get it” as he stalks towards the kitchen. Yui watches him go with a hazy smile, staring at his broad back and imagining herself digging her nails into it. Soon, it would be reality.

The TV makes its presence known when some noise from the movie soundtrack has her huffily reaching for the remote, skipping the mute button to switch it off altogether. She hadn’t watched a lick of it anyway, and she has a funny feeling he hadn’t really either.

Her hideous T-shirt gets kicked to the side, and then she hastily undoes the button of her shorts, yanking them off along with her panties and tossing them to the other end of the couch. It’s a surreal feeling, standing up naked in the middle of Sawamura’s living room. She lies back properly on the couch, head nestled on a cushion, and waits eagerly for his return.

Daichi doesn’t disappoint; his jaw visibly slacks when he comes into view, glancing up from the condom in his hand to find Yui nude on his couch and ready to be taken, even if her smile is a little nervous.

“You found it,” she notes, relieved.

He doesn’t seem to hear. “ _Ahh_ god dammit _fuck_ you’re so _beautiful_ —” she makes out of his jumbled words before he crosses the room and all but sinks onto her, mouth first.

Yui giggles into the kiss, eagerly reciprocating, and neatly tucks her knees against his hips. “Mm, it’s not fair,” she groans, when she’s given a chance between kisses. “I’m naked and you’re still wearing _all_ your clothes.”

He doesn’t waste time fulfilling her wish, scrambling back just enough that he can cross his arms and tug his shirt over his head, filling her with a burst of desire over his hard chest. Yui unabashedly runs her tongue up his chest, along his neck, then into his mouth, before they’re back to feverishly making out on his parents’ couch.

“Let’s not beat around the bush this time, hm?” she murmurs, and experimentally juts her hips against his.

His answer is to grind down hard against her, giving friction to his hardening cock. Yui gasps, halfway laughing through it, and fondly takes his face into her hands.

“Let’s not wait?” she suggests again.

Daichi looks back just as affectionately, stroking her hair, and then her cheeks, before kissing her forehead. “Mmm, in a minute. There’s something I want to try first.”

Yui looks at him curiously, frowning when he pulls back and she immediately misses him. But he kisses his way down, catching her lips, her jaw, her neck, her breast, her navel — and then his hands are at her knees, pulling her legs apart.

“Oh!” Instantly she’s crimson in color, feebly trying to close herself off, but he’s always had steady hands.

He keeps her feet snug around his waist, then says her words from a year ago back to her. “Let me do this for you.”

Yui claps a hand over her mouth, covering her embarrassment, but slowly parts her knees even farther to open herself to him, just as he had trusted her so long ago.

He takes a second just to _look,_ his appreciation blatant on his face — at her folds uncurling just for him, or the arousal pulsing through her clit. She’s wet already, just from his gaze and every way that he had already touched her that night, and the sight absentmindedly brings out his tongue to dampen his bottom lip.

Yui watches his head disappear in the space between her thighs, only his hair peeking out past her stomach from what she can see through her half-lidded eyes, and whimpers when his mouth drags down her sex. A shiver causes her toes to curl, picking at the hem of his sweatpants, and her back involuntarily arches off the couch.

And then she feels his tongue slither up the inside of her fold, and a second hand joins her first to clamp over her mouth. _“Mmm!”_

He begins to explore, just barely trailing over her entrance before he drags his lips back up her side. When his tongue swipes up her clit is when Yui convulses hard, another groan bursting past the cracks in her fingers.

Daichi pauses for a moment, letting her shiver fade, and seems to realize the effect he’d had. He swipes again, harder this time.

Yui whimpers, pressing her hands down so hard that it’s started to hurt, but her body betrays everything.

He’s realized now where it feels the most pleasurable, and his tongue doesn’t stop playing with her clit, lapping at her up and down and never missing a single spot. But it’s not until he sucks it into his mouth that Yui’s vision goes completely white from the _unbearable_ pleasure.

 _“Da-i-chi!”_ she keens, one hand shooting down to fist his hair. He gives another hard, experimental suck, and she _yanks._ “Daichi, _p-please,_ it’s too good, I—”

“Not yet,” he growls, and she whimpers again at his breath tickling her sex. “I can make you feel even better.”

He forcefully pries her feet from his waist, never pausing his flurry of kisses to her clit, and throws her knees over his shoulders. She opens up even further from him, especially with his fingers curled round her thighs holding them apart, and he looks almost breathless as he slides into place.

His first lick at her entrance is a quick flick.

Yui inhales sharply, both hands now tangled into his hair and turning white from how tightly she holds him.

The next lick is longer, runs down her entire length, and then dips inside her walls. Yui convulses again, her whole body raked with shivers, and she’s gripping his hair so hard he _must_ be feeling the strain at his scalp. But he only ventures a little deeper, a little more curiously, tasting her wetness.

 _“Ahhh,_ it’s so good, Daichi,” she breathes, between the little puffs of air breaking their way through her mouth. “Just like that, _just like that.”_

He pulls out, then sinks back in. It’s languid, slow, and she closes her eyes to relax into the sensation, even if her knuckles are growing paler by the second.

But he’s only easing her into it, she realizes. He’d only been giving her a miniscule look into what he has in store, for his mouth suddenly clamps around her sex, and his tongue juts into her entrance to penetrate her so hard the wind gets knocked out of her gut.

She yanks mercilessly at his hair. _“Ah!_ Wait! Daichi, p-please, w—!”

Her thighs squeeze against his face but he doesn’t seem to care as long as he’s got access, as long as he can thrust in and out of her slick walls, his pants vibrating against her and shooting straight up her spine.

_“Please. Daichi.”_

He grips her thighs hard, jerks her even closer than before to bury his face in between and eat her out so thoroughly that she could have been licked dry if only her arousal wasn’t leaking with each thrust, the wet noises in the room making her groan.

Then he pulls back for a single instant, the only warning she has, before slipping a finger inside her.

 _“Oh! Oh, goddd...”_ Yui dry sobs, and her whole body’s entirely out of her control as she jerks her hips and screams into the room and yanks at his hair and claws at his scalp, neck, shoulders, the couch, cushions, the air surrounding her — anything, anything, _anything_ to anchor her down.

Daichi’s tongue and finger have started a rushed, synchronized dance to fill her up completely then leave her hollow and whimpering for more, both battling to reach her sweet spot as they give her pleasure.

“Daichi, _please,_ I’m so close a-and I don’t want — I want to come with—”

Her pleads fall to deaf ears. But Daichi sinks them back down to the sofa, sucking even more harshly than before, and then he pries her thighs apart, slinks his slick finger up her sex, and starts thumbing her clit wildly.

Yui screams, wave upon wave of pleasure crashing down on her, the ceiling disappearing from view to be replaced by dancing stars.

He grinds down harder the more her hips spasm, bringing her closer to the edge, _demanding_ an orgasm.

And Yui, she tightens her entrance, yanks once at his hair, and gives in to his demands. She comes in a burst of heat, too wiped out by the rush to care that she’s probably sullied his face, and then collapses back on the sofa, arms splayed beside her flushed face. Her eyes shut, her breasts heaving, she just focuses on the pleasure and on catching her breath.

 _“That…_ was… _amazing…”_

Daichi chuckles, giving her a minute, but then she feels him shift; he slowly peels her knees off his shoulders, bringing her legs back around either side of him. The sudden bounce of the cushion and loud rustling has her curious, but it takes another minute and her full strength to pry open her eyes.

He’s hurriedly shucked off his bottoms and rolled on the condom to leave him on his knees before her, fully erect.

Yui groans at the sight, and even if her legs feel like jelly, she wraps them tight around his waist and yanks him towards her, locking their hips. Daichi catches himself on his hands just before he can cover her completely, but he’s close enough for Yui to press a kiss to his lips.

“Daichi, _god,_ I want you so badly right now,” she pants, rubbing up against him desperately. His erection responds kindly in turn. “Please?”

“Yui, rest a bit more,” he lectures her, though both his face and his voice are strained, and she can tell it takes him effort not to grind back against her.

“I don’t want to rest,” she whines, twining her arms around his neck and bringing him closer, rubbing up against him even more needily. “I want _you._ Daichi, that felt so good, and I-I want you to feel good, too. That was the most _incredible_ feeling, I’ve never felt that good before.”

He seems a little surprised through his obviously caving defenses. “You’ve never?”

She shakes her head quickly, kissing his face anywhere she can. “No, no one’s ever. N-Naoto-kun never…”

As soon as the name slips out between them, as soon as he goes rigid above her, Yui immediately realizes she’s made a mistake. He scowls darkly, an equally dark gaze boring into her eyes, and she begins to backtrack. “I-I am so sorry, I didn’t — didn’t m-mean to say—”

Suddenly his hands are at her hips, prying her away. But Yui’s stuttering apologies get overshadowed by her surprised shriek when he callously flips her over, holding her hips high in the air. She just barely catches herself before collapsing, hands and knees stinging from the impact.

Heat bursts into her cheeks when she feels his cock rub against the inside of her thighs, bringing a scorching heat to her skin with it. “D-Daichi, what…?”

A heavy weight settles on her back: Daichi’s chest laying out on top of her, skin to skin, before he’s breathing hot and heavy right next to her ear. His fingers brush hair away from her face, but she has a feeling it’s not meant to be gentle when he starts seeking more friction for his erection.

“Yui,” he grunts, hard and possessive. “Let me make you mine tonight?”

A lump rises in her throat, but immediately her walls start to burn. _“…Yes,”_ she breathes, hollow.

Then his hands are on her ass, peeling her apart, bringing his cock to her sex. And it’s not like last time, slow or gentle to start. He pushes his tip into her walls, already sleek from her orgasm, and then with a single thrust he’s given her his entire length.

Yui’s gasp chokes and turns into a moan, her hands trembling under her weight and his. But he’s already pulled back and slammed into her once more, this time eliciting a small scream.

_“Ah! Daichi!”_

He grunts low, then rolls his hips again, just barely out before fully back in, just barely giving her walls a chance to stretch. This is the rhythm he chooses, this haphazard way of fucking where his hips overpower hers and she’s never not full to the brim with his cock, taking each hard thrust as it comes.

“Daichi, oh god, _Daichi!”_ she cries, all she _can_ cry, as she lolls her head back onto his shoulder. He takes the opportunity to start tonguing her neck, his hands finally moving from her ass to explore her body. One settles on a hardened nipple, flicking it as he massages her breast. But Yui jerks when she feels fingers trail past her waist and between her legs, pressing against her clit. _“Oh!”_

“Come for me,” he breathes into her ear, as he begins to stroke.

Yui’s hands buckle and give in, her cheek pressing against the armrest as she pants uncontrollably, but his hands on her body keep the rest of her from following. If anything, he only flattens himself over her harder, thrusts into her faster, and groans louder to harmonize with her.

Yui feels like she’s come already, she’s so spent, but she can feel another orgasm building as he works every sensitive part of her body, never giving her a break until she gives him what she wants. Unconsciously she begins pressing down onto his fingers, wanting more friction, and he complies with languid strokes.

 _“Ohh,_ _yes…_ Daichi, I like you so much, _so much, I-I_ — I lov—”

And it’s then, the words half-choked out between her pants, that she dissolves into a throaty moan and uncoils underneath him, feeling him soften inside her only a few heartbeats after.

With one, long breath, she collapses on the sofa cushion, letting the feeling of something fuzzy and white wash over every inch of her.

Daichi pulls out slowly, slipping the condom off his length, before following suit at her side. He does, however, scoop her still form into his arms and bring her to rest against his chest, pressing a kiss to her forehead when she grins hazily. Yui doesn’t protest.

 

 

 

Daichi’s chest is quickly becoming one of her favorite places to be.

They clean themselves up quickly, as best as possible when they’re still so spent; Daichi pulls on his sweatpants again, though his boxers get kicked somewhere under the couch, and Yui slips on just that giant, hideous shirt of hers that had started this whole thing. And then he settles them against an armrest, pulls her back to his chest, and circles his arms around her waist. He doesn’t plan on letting her go any time soon, and Yui is fine with it.

She runs a finger up one of his powerful arms, and hums appreciatively. He’s definitely bigger than she remembers. “Have you been working out?”

“Well… I had to channel all that energy from the past year _somewhere,_ right?” he replies sheepishly. Yui is reminded of how she had taken a much different approach, but maybe he doesn’t need to know just yet.

“Imagine if your parents walked in right now,” she laughs at the scandalous thought, stretching out her legs so they can both admire them.

“I’d probably have to buy them a new couch,” he remarks, sounding pained, and makes her laugh again.

“I’d chip in,” she promises. “I mean, I was one-half the culprit, wasn’t I?”

 _“One-half?”_ he scoffs in return, teasingly holding her tighter and growling into her ear when she tries to squirm. “Who started this whole thing, _hm?”_

“Your fault for being born so handsome!” she counters, and has the pleasure of watching him flush.

He doesn’t respond to that right away. She thinks maybe he’s too shy, or doesn’t have some quip ready. But then he shifts once, uncomfortably, and clear his throat. “Yui…”

“Hm?” Her smile is kind.

“Did you… mean it? What you said,” he elaborates, when she looks at him confused.

She’s still clueless, however. “What I said when?”

“When…” he begins, but her close, earnest look embarrasses him for some reason, and he shakes his head. “Never mind.”

“What? No, tell me!” she persists, smacking his chest, but none of her badgering unseals his lips.

“Forget it. It’s not important. Just…” His voice softens. “I’m glad you’re still here.”

“I’m glad I’m still here, too,” she admits, in a much quieter voice.

It feels like they’re heading for one of those subdued moments, when they think of everything they _could_ have but don’t, and that’s not what Yui wants at all, not while she’s wrapped up in his arms. This time should be one they make most of.

But it seems Daichi has a similar thought, for she breaks out of her reverie when she suddenly feels his fingers sliding under her T-shirt and between her legs, making her jump when he presses against her for the third time that night.

 _“D-Daichi…”_ she squeaks, gripping the hem of her shirt.

“Mmm, while you’re still here?” he requests, pressing kisses to the shell of her ear. His hand digs a little deeper, but he’s soft and gentle.

Yui lets out a small, content sigh, and melts back against him. “While we’re here.”

 

 

 

The summer air hasn’t gotten any cooler later into the night, but still that doesn’t keep Yui from sticking to Daichi’s side as he walks her to her doorstep.

It’s almost a kind of miracle, Yui thinks, that she’d managed to walk upright at all, with all the orgasms he had pulled from her tonight. Her legs feel faint, light, her sex even more so. But she’s never been more content.

Cuddling with Daichi, laughing with Daichi, kissing with Daichi late into the night; these are things she’s dreamt of for as long as she can imagine, in the past year especially, and tonight he had given them all to her. It had felt like an old friendship again.

But it has to come to an end.

“Listen, Sawamura…” she begins, staring down at her shoes.

“Don’t say it.” And when she rounds on him, ready to protest, he says soothingly, “I know. You still don’t want a relationship.”

Yui bites down on her lip, feeling like she’s the worst person. “It’s not that I _don’t…”_

“You can’t,” he finishes calmly, still showing her infinite patience. “I told you, it’s okay. You’ve made your feelings clear since the last time. And you even said, before we started, that it would just be tonight. I might want it, but… I won’t expect anything from you.”

She’s in total awe of him, of his patience and his understanding, and it must show on her face because it makes him smile. He tucks hair behind her ears.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’d just want a relationship where we’re both happy.”

“B-But, Sawamura, i-it wasn’t _m-meaningless.”_ She trips over her own tongue to get the words out, still thinking of that cold feeling in her stomach from their reunion that afternoon. “The sex, I mean! Last time _or_ this time. I-I really do like you! It’s just…”

He seems a little taken aback by her words, but maybe a little hopeful too, as he nods. “Okay. I’ll stop thinking of it as meaningless, Michimiya. It never was, you know, to me.”

“Maybe…” She bites down harder on her lip, wondering if this is okay to say. “Maybe we can see each other more during the break? With everyone this time, if you want! I missed you.”

“I’d like that,” he replies, grinning softly. And that usual grin of his covers her with an instant sort of relief. “And if we’re ever together again, and _this_ happens again? I wouldn’t mind.”

It’s hard to bite back her own grin at that. “Me, neither.”

They’re standing aimlessly outside her door at this point, smiling at each other, when Sawamura slowly leans in and presses a kiss to her cheek. Before he completely pulls away, he breathes, “I like you.”

“I like you, too,” Yui replies instantly, and catches his nose with her lips before he straightens.

With a last, shy wave, the grin never sliding from his face, he departs for his home. Yui watches his back until he disappears around the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daichi [in his head]: Okay, Sawamura, don't fuck this up. T-Tell her her hair's pretty! Girls like that sort of thing, right?! SUGA SAID GIRLS LIKE TH—
> 
> -
> 
> Chapter three will be posted once chapter four is about halfway finished. I'm sorry to say that update probably won't be as quick as this one :c But I'll try my best!
> 
> Thank you for reading~


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter three, finally~
> 
> There's another time-skip in this chapter near the end, but once again, it shouldn't be too hard to tell when it happens. Also, I didn't want to tag them since their roles are so minor, but there's a cameo in this chapter by both Shimizu and Asahi!

* * *

 

 

Leaving would be easier this time, Yui had thought.

She and Sawamura meet again only days after their illicit encounter, this time with their friends in tow. They flash each other small, shy waves from over the others’ shoulders, as if only a few nights ago they _hadn’t_ fucked spur-of-the-moment on his parents’ couch. Yui is even a bit nervous to fall into step beside him on the way to the theater, though he only mumbles a kind “I’m glad you’re well” before they fall into amiable silence.

Suga shoots them both exasperated looks and, once they’re sliding into their seats, purposely takes the one in between the two. For the rest of the night he watches them shoot each other hesitant, longing sideways looks, though when Yui realizes he’s noticed every single one of her wistful glances, she’s suddenly _very_ interested in the rest of the movie.

There’s one more time, after that. It’s a surprise encounter in the supermarket, though it’s his mother she runs into first; her heart doesn’t jump out of her chest until he appears from around the corner, carrying the basket for his mother.

“Thank you for the flowers, Yui-chan, they’re lovely,” Sawamura-san croons, batting her shoulder.

“O-Oh, no problem!” She manages a bright smile. “I hope they haven’t shriveled already?”

“The trick is to cut them early, so they’ll last longer,” she explains promptly, and Yui looks over her shoulder at her son. It’s a trick she’s all too familiar with.

It’s when his mother finally turns away from their chatter, busy picking apples from the lot, that Sawamura sidles up to her side and asks in a quiet voice, “Can I carry your basket for you?”

Yui bites her lip, a rush of longing settling in the pit of her stomach. “Actually, I have everything, so I was just about to leave.”

“O-Oh.” He scratches the back of his neck, nervous. “Then, be careful going home.”

“Mm… thanks.” With a squeeze of her basket handle, something to steel her to the ground, she gets on her toes and gently presses a lingering kiss to his cheek, noting his flushed surprise. “Thanks for everything, Sawamura.”

That’s the last time she sees him, a gentle memory unlike the last time they had parted ways. So Yui had thought it would be easier, to leave her hometown and memories of Sawamura behind for the year.

But she’s standing at the platform now, her duffle bag of clothes in her clutch, and she can’t help shooting furtive looks over her shoulder every now and then. There are no familiar faces in the crowds of people milling into the station.

At her side, Mao watches curiously. “Just _who_ are you waiting for?” she finally asks, looking at her expectantly. She sees right through her best friend, as she adds, “Sawamura already left yesterday, didn’t he?”

“…Yeah,” is the glum reply. Yui rocks on her heels. She knows, that Sawamura is already somewhere far away, perhaps not to be seen again for another year to come. Still some part of her hopes for a glimpse of him; even a mirage would do.

“Come on, we have to get going, too,” Mao tells her impatiently, hopping onto the waiting train. Behind them, Chizuru notices and kindly bids goodbye to the children who had occupied her time while waiting for their train, before following after the blonde.

Yui sighs, dousing all her farfetched hopes with reality, and quietly shuffles after her friends.

 

 

 

This year is a little more bearable than the last.

Yui’s learned how to taper down the longing in class, how to keep his smiles and his naked body from her mind in the middle of practice, how to channel all the overwhelming feelings into her fingers late at night. Thoughts of him are less dark as well, now she has nicer memories to hold on to.

But Mao asks yet again, “Don’t you want a relationship with him?”

And Yui sighs wistfully. “I want a lot of things with him, Mao.”

Her best friend has to click her tongue. “You’re so ridiculous, Yui.”

“Maybe I am…”

The quiet mumble goes unheard, but Yui presses her cheek flat against the table and loses herself in thought. She’d expected it to be easier, forgetting Sawamura, now that there’s less guilt pooling in her stomach every time she imagines his cute, slumbering face in that hotel room. But it’s only gotten _harder,_ now that she has more faces, more smiles, more sinful touches lurking in her memories. She sighs again, her shoulders deflating.

Mao nudges her leg under the table. “Here comes Chizuru.”

Their friend joins them in a breathless flurry of apologizes for running late, her face strangely flushed and her hands trembling so badly that it takes her two tries to properly pull out her chair. Yui and Mao exchange curious looks as she digs for her books, and she notices. “Wh-what?”

“What’s got you so keyed up?” Mao asks bluntly, leaning closer to her over the table.

Her face instantly reddens, even as she tries fruitlessly to cover it up. “I-I don’t know what you mean!”

“You were fine this morning,” Yui recalls, also thrilled by the mystery, _“and_ when we talked over the phone just now to make plans to meet up. Did something happen before you came here?”

“W-Well…” She draws circles on top of her textbook, visibly contemplating whether to share, but they can tell by the happiness _radiating_ off her that she wants to celebrate the good news with her best friends. “You remember that waiter from when we took Yui out for barbecue a few months ago? H-He asked me out.”

There’s a beat of stunned silence after her admittance, and then Mao narrows her eyes before seething, “What the _hell?_ Yui turns him down so he decides he’s just going to _switch_ targets to _you_ — _?”_

“It’s not like that!” Chizuru comes to his defense, furiously shaking her head. “He’s not a bad person, I _promise._ Actually I never told you two, but he’s in one of my clubs with me. I guess… I never noticed him before? Until he confessed to Yui?” She gnaws on her lip, as if unsure if she should continue. “We just started out as friends, but he was so nice and sweet and we got along so well. And over the break we kept in touch — he made sure to call me _every day_ while we were visiting home. I was actually hoping he would ask…”

“How do we know he’s not some sleeze who’s using you?” Mao demands protectively.

“He promised he doesn’t have feelings for Yui anymore,” Chizuru insists, though she looks at Yui a little guiltily as she says it. “I _really_ like him. I-I said yes.”

Yui doesn’t miss a beat, her smile kind. “If you’re happy, Chizu, then we’re happy _for_ you. _Right,_ Mao?”

The blonde collapses back in her chair, defeated. “Right.”

Chizuru giggles, shaking her head at the two of them, before sighing dreamily down at her textbook. Now with the confession over, she lets her happiness emit in heavy waves. “Aren’t cellphones amazing? I can’t believe we talked so much every day. I’m so glad I gave him my number.”

And amidst looking happy for her friend, Yui feels something chilled settle over her.

A memory niggles at her mind: the night at the movie theater when, right before they had all parted ways on the road home, Sawamura had pulled her to the side to talk alone. “Can I… have your number?” he had asked, endearingly nervous, pulling out his phone. And Yui, fighting back the grin threatening to burst on her face, had added herself into his address book with the thrill of knowing she could hear his voice any time.

It’s the first time she’s realized, now, that he hasn’t tried to contact her even once.

“Okay, okay, let’s study,” Mao sighs, opening her book, but whatever look must be on Yui’s face makes her pause. “You okay? Don’t tell me you liked that pretty waiter boy after all?”

“…Huh?” Yui snaps up her gaze to find Chizuru staring at her in horror and Mao waiting expectantly, and realizes with a twist in her gut that her small burst of loneliness had seeped into her expression. “N-No! Of course not! You have my blessing, Chizuru, _really._ N-Now, study?”

She’s aware of their worried glances over her head but doesn’t offer a word of explanation, and eventually they’re forced to let the moment fade away.

The loneliness, however, only continues to fester as the days pass.

It starts on the night of Chizuru’s first date, when they’re holed up in the girl’s room as she panics, helping to doll her up for the night. While Chizuru’s on the verge of tears when her eyeliner smudges and her hair won’t cooperate, Yui can see how the unbridled excitement never fades from her eyes. The thrill of a first date hangs in the air, and Yui is only reminded that she’s never had one of those with Sawamura.

The night, according to Chizuru, is magical; she spins tales of pretty bouquets and exquisite food and slow dancing romantically in her pretty, lilac dress. Yui is reminded of how in high school she’d wasted so much of her time dreaming up first date scenarios for the day Sawamura might finally ask her out. Even now, they fill her stomach with butterflies.

But she’s the one who’d turned down any chances at a relationship. She can’t go dreaming of one now, she tells herself.

But still it’s hard, _so_ hard, to watch Chizuru paint her nails so they’re prettied up for hand holding, watch Chizuru flush at every _good morning_ text, watch Chizuru lose herself in this perfect romance of hers.

“What’s wrong?” Mao asks one night, when she finds Yui staring diligently at her phone rather than prepping for bed.

“I want _so many_ things with Sawamura, Mao,” she breathes back, curling her knees to her chest.

Her best friend, though she’s sympathetic, can only shake her head.

The next morning Yui watches Chizuru toss out a greying bouquet, and she frowns. “What are those?”

“Oh, I forgot to cut them after our date last week,” she explains regretfully, but brightens right back up. “But this means he’ll bring me some more!”

That’s a nice trick itself, Yui thinks, and glances at her silent phone.

 

 

 

It’s a pleasant, average afternoon when Sawamura takes her completely by surprise.

Mao’s running late for lunch since a professor had asked her to run errands, and Chizuru’s wandered off to give her homemade lunch to her boyfriend, so Yui’s lounging alone in her dorm with a game console in her hands when her phone suddenly vibrates by her knee. She spares it just a quick glance, too involved in her game, but then almost drops the device altogether when she spies _Sawamura_ flashing across the screen.

The greeting is a little difficult to get out. “H-Hello?”

“Ah… Michimiya…”

His voice melts over her, hesitant like he’s been with her a lot lately, but warm like glazed chocolate. Her game flashes her a menacing _Game Over_ message, but Yui feels like things couldn’t be closer to the exact opposite right now.

“What’s up!” she asks eagerly, spinning her hair around a finger.

“Hm. Well. Just.” She hears him shuffling on his end, fidgeting in a way that’s not very common for him, and forgets to breathe out in her excitement. “Sorry if this is a little short notice. But. Would you happen to be free this weekend?”

Forget breathing out. Her whole _body_ seems to have forgotten how to take in oxygen. “I might be free, yeah,” she replies slowly, crossing her legs. “Did you need something?”

“Well, see, me and Suga have a game this weekend,” he begins. “Nothing major. Just a practice away game. But we’re heading your way.”

Yui straightens, her gut twisting. “You’re going to be in town?”

Even he’s got a tinge of something in his voice now, excitement or nerves or some other emotion she can’t pinpoint because she can hardly pinpoint all the emotions she’s feeling _herself_ right now. “Just for a day! But, see, Shimizu’s at a school close to yours, right? And Asahi said he’s up for visiting too, if we’re all going to be in one place. So it’ll be like a big reunion. And, well… would you maybe want to go with me?”

Yui almost flies off her bed, almost shoots through her ceiling. In her mind she certainly does. A chance, just one chance, to see Sawamura again!

Aloud, she repeats, _“With_ you?” Feeling bold, maybe from her elation, she laughs teasingly. “Ehh, Sawamura, what’s this? Are you asking me as a friend or as a date?”

“W-Well—!”

"Either way we'd go together,” she assures him, playfully scrunching her nose. “But as a date you'd have to pay for my food, you know!"

She erupts into giggles again, so Sawamura would know she’s only teasing. But he doesn’t join in. After a heavy stretch of silence on his end, he firmly adds, "Plus I'd get to call you my date. I’m asking you out."

Yui’s next laugh gets caught in her throat.

“That’s okay, right?” he continues, wavering again. But he doesn’t sound ready to back down from his declaration. “You said no relationship when we’re far away. But we won’t be, then. So it’s okay, right?”

Yui swallows the laugh that had morphed into a lump in her throat, picks busily at her mattress, and breathes, “It’s okay.”

Silence, again.

“…So, I’ll see you soon?”

“Soon,” she agrees, and bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

This is how Mao finds her only moments later, still with her crossed legs pulled to her chest, staring dreamily at her phone. She doesn’t look up until her friend impatiently snaps her fingers right before her eyes, when calling her name proves useless.

 _“What_ has got you off into dreamland?” Mao asks, tossing her bag on her bed.

Yui falls back onto her pillow, arms splayed, phone still in her clutch. She sighs, “Sawamura asked me out.”

“No kidding?” Even the blonde looks shocked, before asking suspiciously, “What did you say?”

Yui doesn’t answer her directly, but she rolls over on her bed, curling up in delight, and finally can’t seem to stop the wobbly smile from taking over her face. “I’m going on my _first date_ with Sawamura.”

 

 

 

The weekend arrives in a bit of a blur.

No one could ask Yui what happened for the rest of that week because she simply has no recollection. She vaguely remembers inviting Mao and Chizuru along for the reunion, only for them to refuse with these sly looks on their faces that made her flush. She also vaguely remembers Sawamura texting her their meeting place and asking if he should pick her up, though the spot was so close to her school that she had cheerily turned him down and he had replied with a simple _I’ll be waiting for you then_ that had been drifting through her mind ever since. But the rest of the week is a bit hazy.

It's not until she’s rounding a curb and standing at a street corner impatiently waiting for the walk light to switch on that she sees, thinks, _feels_ clearly again. Because there she spies Sawamura, rocking on his heels as he waits alone outside the coffee shop for her to appear, just as he had promised.

She can’t race across the street fast enough, her face radiating joy. “Sawamura!”

He looks up at her call, hands shooting out of his pockets, and returns her grin. “Michimiya, you made it.”

She catches up to him joyously enough, as if she plans to run in for a fierce embrace. But she pulls back at the last second, stopping herself just before she can bound into his chest, and locks her hands behind her back. Now it’s her turn to rock in place, a little bashful at this reunion, a little unsure about how to approach him.

Sawamura notices her posture, and it makes him bashful in return. He scratches his head, looking away. “So. Uh. I hope you’re doing good?”

“Yeah…” she replies quietly, her smile faint.

“I’m glad.” There’s more shuffling on both their parts. “Then, hmm, it’s nice seeing you again?”

She glances up at his inquiry, and her chest squeezes to see he’s extended a hand towards her, his smile urging her closer. Not one to waste a moment, she races into his arms, circling her own around his waist and hugging him close.

“I missed you,” she breathes. She did truly; his firm chest, his strong arms around her, that soothing woodsy smell of his favorite cologne. She looks up at him earnestly, and it hits her right in her stomach that she would only have to stretch onto her toes the tiniest bit to kiss his lips. _Oh,_ she wants to.

But that might make things weird. She doesn’t know the protocol here.

They pull back regretfully too soon, but he doesn’t completely let go of her hand and Yui brightens at that. “Are the others here?”

“They’re inside,” he assures her, pulling her along. By now they’ve properly clasped hands, though Sawamura doesn’t say a thing about it so Yui doesn’t either.

It’s not very crowded inside at all, surprising for this time of day. Yui even manages to find someone she knows from one of her classes, with how close they are to their school, and waves cheerily as they pass. Sawamura leads them to a table in the back, still by a window, and Yui sucks in air when she spies familiar faces.

 _“Don’t_ say anything about Asahi’s hair,” Sawamura murmurs to her in a low voice, when they’re close. “Apparently his mom made him.”

Before Yui can even ask, they’ve reached the table and she can see for herself that Azumane’s chopped off his mane up to his ears, much like it had been back in their first-year days at Karasuno. Yui tries not to let her gaze linger as she greets her old friends.

“Uh. H-Hey, you guys!”

“Michimiya, nice seeing you again,” Sugawara greets her sincerely, smiling. They’d seen each other only months ago, or else Yui might have barreled in for a bone-crushing hug.

Shimizu smiles kindly from her spot by the window, and Azumane’s fumbled greetings stammer off when he spies their joined hands and his face instantly reddens. Sawamura pays no mind to the latter, simply slipping into the spot beside Suga and tugging down Yui on his other side.

“Asahi, it’s rude to stare,” Suga laughs. “We’re all doing the polite thing and not noticing the disaster on your head, aren’t we?”

Yui almost gasps at his gall, especially when poor Azumane suddenly looks mopey at the reminder of what had happened to his hair, but at least all eyes were off them. “I think it looks nice!” she encourages him chirpily. “Respectable!”

 _“Respectable,”_ Sawamura repeats with a snort. “Except that he works at some beat up garage where there’s a seventy-five percent chance he’ll get killed in a stabbing rather than a work-related accident. At least his old look suited that kind of place.”

“Azumane, you don’t go to school?” Yui hastens to ask, when he looks almost ready to pass out at the word _stabbing._ She’s almost floored by Sawamura’s and Suga’s disregard, but then, she supposes this might be how boys act with their best friends.

“I never planned on it, actually,” he replies, gratefully taking the out. “I’ve been working since high school graduation.”

“At the garage?”

He shrugs. “Hopping between jobs, actually.”

“I liked the bakery,” Shimizu pipes up, smiling fondly. “They had nice cupcakes. And the old first-years from the team loved it when I brought some when I visited.”

Yui turns her attention to the girl next. Truthfully Shimizu had always intimidated her a little, at the beginning; she was beautiful and so put together, everything Yui had thought she was not back in high school. But volleyball had allowed them a bond. “Shimizu, do you go back to visit often?”

She shakes her head. “Just the one time.”

“Shimizu’s so busy with training camps and all,” Suga explains, almost like he’s teasing.

“Volleyball?”

“Tennis,” Shimizu replies quietly, and then seems to shrink back a little, as if announcing that she’s finished talking for the time being. She starts fiddling with a small menu sitting at their table, and Suga strikes up a conversation with Asahi about maybe shaving off his goatee next.

Yui takes the chance to finally turn to Sawamura. “How have you been?”

His smile is soft. “Happy for this small break actually, if you can call it that. School has been getting tough. Or maybe it’s just me,” he laughs.

“Third year is so much harder,” she agrees, wrinkling her nose. “Though you were always super smart, Sawamura. I always looked up to you. Don’t pretend you’re struggling now!” She punches his arm, and he looks sheepish in turn.

“Well, you know, Daichi has his own type of problems,” Suga pipes up, shifting his attention to them. Asahi and Shimizu seem to have struck up their own quiet conversation on their side of the table, splitting the group of friends for the time being.

Yui glances at Sawamura in worry, though he looks just as bewildered. “You do? What’s wrong?”

“He’s got absolutely no backbone to speak of!” Suga scoffs, firmly crossing his arms.

That seems to clue in Sawamura to whatever his best friend seems to be hinting at, for he turns an alarming shade of pink and won’t look Yui in the eye anymore. “Sh-Shut up, Suga.”

Yui looks between them, confused and disbelieving. Sawamura Daichi has probably the sturdiest, most dependable backbone of any person she has ever known. He’s the sort of boy who sets his sights on something and takes it with his own two hands, no detours, no hesitation. She can’t imagine what sort of challenge could ever wither that backbone of his away.

Suga answers her silent questions when he laughs softly, waving a hand about and proclaiming, “It’s like all the courage drains out of him when it comes to girls!”

Sawamura growls low, looking rightly embarrassed. _“Suga…”_

But Yui feels something unsettle at the bottom of her stomach, something heavy make a home in her lungs. Oh.

“Well, come on, how long has it been since—”

“Suga, you _promised_ you wouldn’t—”

Yui fiddles with a napkin and _tries_ not to let it bother her that she and Sawamura are no longer holding hands. She’s the one who hadn’t wanted a relationship, she has to remind herself, time and time again. And Sawamura is so handsome, as she’s known since her very first sight of him in a crowded school corridor. There were bound to be others; she had _prepared_ herself for there to be others. Still, she wonders what kind of girl could make Sawamura flush in this adorable way, down to his neck and fanning even to his ears. Some part of her had hoped she was the only one.

“So…” she brings up slowly, and hopes her tease sounds natural, friendly. “Who is she?”

Suga looks over in surprise at first, before that melts into a devious sort of look. Sawamura looks choked.

“Oh, come on!” Yui laughs, shoving his arm again. “You can tell me! We are _adults_ now, Sawamura. I figured there were others. I mean, how many were there even before _me?”_

 _“That’s not…”_ A vague look of horror settles on his face, like he can’t tell how the conversation turned to this and he can’t see a clear way out of giving an answer. It makes Yui’s stomach knot in the most discomforting ways.

But it’s Sugawara who looks between them rapidly, a faux expression of disbelief on his face, and quietly-but-really-not-so-quietly exclaims, _“Ehh?_ Daichi, you didn’t tell her that was your first time?”

Asahi and Shimizu, immersed in their quiet murmurs, seem not to hear when they don’t look over. But Yui feels her breath catch before it can even reach her throat.

Daichi’s gone an indiscernible shade of red, staring down intently at his palms. “Sh-Shut up, Suga.”

But Yui, she’s _oh,_ so touched, she’s not even sure how she’s going to speak again. First time. Sawamura Daichi had given her his first time, _trusted her_ with his chastity. And maybe these things might not mean as much to boys from what she’s heard, but Daichi had shown her a part of himself no one else has ever been allowed to see. And Yui _scorches._

In a quiet voice, she manages a squeak. _“Really?”_

Daichi lets out a long, shaky breath, his answer barely audible. “Yes.”

And he glances at her, grins that shy, crooked grin that she _adores,_ and Yui regrets not having kissed him deep and slow out on the sidewalk where there had only been the two of them. If anything, all she wants now is to have him quick and hard between her legs, satisfy this sudden urge of hers to open him up bare like no one before her. Sawamura has given her everything. First time, second time. And Yui is consumed by greed, itching to have his third.

Suga raises an eyebrow when she clambers to her feet, though he’s got a knowing gleam in his eyes Yui’s too far gone to care about. Asahi and Shimizu do glance over in surprise though, breaking conversation, especially when she clamps a hand around Daichi’s wrist and pulls him to his feet as well.

“B-Bathroom, you said?” she announces, loudly, shrilly. “I’ll show you where it is, Daichi!”

His mouth parts. “Uh, wha…”

“Order me a bubble tea, please!” she requests of Suga, before dragging her clueless date towards the bathrooms on legs that already feel like they’ve turned to mush, ignoring Suga’s light _will do_ and Asahi’s stunned _did she just call him Daichi?_

“I actually don’t have to go,” Daichi tries to explain, though he still dutifully follows.

Yui huffs. “Daichi, you are _so ridiculous.”_

And with that, she yanks him with her into the ladies’ room, hastily locking the door behind them so they would not be disturbed.

It’s a small, cramped space. A single cubicle stands in the corner, and Yui eyes the sink for sturdiness in case it would need to carry her weight. But it’s only a passing glance until she’s staring right at Daichi, relishing in the way he makes her legs burn just with his close presence, before she covers the two-step distance between them and all but throws herself onto his lips.

He’s thrown off balance at first, taken by surprise. _“Mm!”_

But Yui doesn’t falter in her rain of kisses, only presses herself up against him more urgently and almost _whines_ for him to open his mouth. Her fingers bunch at the collar of his shirt, to steady her on her toes when she melts over his sturdy form.

Daichi takes but a moment longer before she hears a sharp inhale, feels his shoulders tense underneath her wrists. Then he grasps her by the waist and overpowers her mouth with his own, finally dipping into the ravenous kiss.

 _“Hm… Daichi…”_ she breathes.

There’s no warning when she suddenly hitches him towards the door. A low grunt escapes him when his back makes hard impact, but it’s swallowed by Yui’s lips.

They dissolve into a frenzied mess of lips, the bathroom full of nothing but their smacking mouths and low groans echoing off the porcelain. Yui angles her mouth and kisses him so fully, so deeply, that he rocks into it like he’s falling and trusting her to catch him. It’s after a good few minutes of sucking on his tongue that she finally pulls away, to find his eyes glazed with desire.

Wordlessly, she pops open the first button of his shirt and furiously begins pressing kisses to his neck.

 _“God._ Yui. What…” he murmurs, barely forming a coherent thought.

She tugs open the second button and trails her tongue over his exposed clavicle, lapping at whatever skin is available to her. If her teeth happen to catch flesh, she curls her mouth over the spot and sucks with such fervor that he’s tinged red by the time she pulls away. She just pops open the next button.

They continue in this way, Yui creating a messy path of popped buttons and lips and teeth and tongue down his torso, kissing at his taut stomach before teasing his navel and then dragging her teeth even lower, leaving a path of reddening skin and purple bruises. Daichi’s hands hang uselessly at his side; he’s staring from behind eyelids at the ceiling, lips parted but giving no signs that he’s breathing at all.

Then his eyes pop open, a gasp filling his lungs with air, when he feels her unzipping his jeans.

 _“Yui,”_ he whines, fingers tangling into her hair. “Yui, are you sure—”

There’s a _zip,_ some fumbled rustling of clothes, and then she yanks his modesty down to his ankles.

His cock twitches at the sudden burst of air, and she watches it come to life under her gaze, hardened slightly after their rushed make-out job. Yui feels her knees go weak, might even have sunk to the ground if she wasn’t already half-crouched in front of his junk.

 _“Ah,_ you’re so _big,”_ she breathes, her admiration clear as she parts his thighs. A sudden rush of blood reddens the tip of his penis, the color also creeping up his neck, and she realizes it’s the first time she’s ever told him as much despite all the pleasure he’s given her already. Fingers coming up to stroke his length, she praises him openly. “So big, so hot. _So good.”_

“Yui, _ah!”_ He bites down hard on his lips, but the fingers tangling harshly into her hair speak for how much he enjoys her admiration. So does his cock reacting to her words and her touch with an eager bob, seeking more attention.

Yui sighs, already _aching_ to have him between her legs.

Daichi’s tongue meets the roof of his mouth in a sharp hiss when she guides her lips around the shape of his head, taking just the slightest bit of him into her mouth. His body reacts instantly; she feels every bit of him tense, from his fingers grasping at her hair to his shoulders reaching his ears to the clench of his abs and the hitch of his breath.

Then her tongue ventures over his tip, and it’s like every bit of him uncoils at once, loosening him from the bottom up until the pleasure escapes his mouth in a long, drawn-out sigh. _“Ahhh…”_

Yui slowly sinks deeper over his curve, testing the waters of how much she can take, her tongue curiously following. There’s no significant taste except perhaps a tinge of something salty, but she feels every twitch of his length against the walls of her mouth, caused by every pant to every uncontrolled jut of his hips.

He’s trying not to overwhelm her, she can tell. His head lolls back against the door, his Adam’s apple bobbing to give action to his pleasure, but he’s concentrated his lust to the vice grip on her hair rather than his tense, still hips.

Yui tries not to overwhelm him in turn, slow, careful, as she moves over his erection and tries to meet her fingers clasped around the base of his cock. With every swipe of her tongue she feels him harden and burn her lips with his heat.

“Yui…” he groans, though it seems to be a struggle to even speak. “Y-You don’t have to…”

She laps at him affectionately, enjoying the way he shudders in response. _I want to._

When she’s taken as much of him as she can handle, his tip pressed up against the back of her throat, she pulls back all at once in an abrupt move, leaving behind a trail of saliva to clamp her lips around his head and give him a particularly hard suck.

 _“God!”_ The cry leaves his lips a raspy, half-choked mess of a word, overshadowed by sharp panting as he struggles to control himself. His penis is not so easily controlled, and Yui feels the rush of blood engorging his erection when she gives him another long suck.

Spurred on to experiment, Yui lets the top row of her teeth bang _ever_ so slightly against his flesh, and she’s not disappointed by his loud, euphoric hiss. Daichi has one hand in her hair, the other gripping the door frame with white knuckles. His knees shake like they’re going to give in any second.

“Yui, if you keep that up,” he warns her, through hard, clenched teeth. His voice is significantly huskier than it’s ever been.

Yui pulls back with a soft smack, and grins up at him adoringly. “Daichi, you’re doing so much better than the first time.”

They both remember the memory, of his premature reaction to her touch and his horror at finishing before anything had even started. His cheeks flush as the feelings hit him again, but Yui soothingly rubs her thumb along his base. He sighs at her actions, contently.

Yui is less careful this time, when she laps at his head and takes him into her mouth, feeling him shudder for each of her little actions. He closes his eyes again, muttering low curses at the ceiling like they're magic spells to keep him from spilling, when Yui pulls away without warning and instead dips to give attention to one of his balls.

That's his weakness. He staggers over a gasp, legs reflexively trying to shut if not for her hand on his thigh, and begins to croak her name like a mantra. _Yui, Yui, Yui, Yui..._

Yui giggles, the sound vibrating against him and shooting straight back up his length, before molding her mouth perfectly along the shape and taking him fully between her lips. Her grip at his base works to peel back his cock and give her access, her other fingers curling away the wild, unruly hair taking from her view. And she begins to suck again, harsh and needy as saliva dribbles down her chin and her throaty moans echo against his hips.

 _"Fuck! I... hng!"_ Daichi's hands have become a permanent fixture in her hair for how harshly they're tangled in, and his back slips a little down the door with each wobble of his knees every time she moves her mouth over him. "I'm close," he groans.

Yui can feel him building, can feel blood rushing into his cock like it's desperate to commit arson, and begins pressing kisses into any part of him she can reach, catching the junction of his hips to the outline of his balls and the skin underneath her fingers as she drags her way back up his length. He's dense and hard under her touch, twitching with the need for her sex.

"Daichi," she pants, gazing up at him glassily. " _Please_ tell me you have a condom. Please."

He still has it in him to look shy, as he admits, "In my wallet."

Yui scrambles for his pocket, procuring his wallet and finding the foil packet tucked into one of the slots. By the time she's hastily jumped to her feet and pressed up against him, the unneeded wallet getting tossed to the counter, he's still trying to explain himself.

"I-It's not that I _expected_ anything," he insists, as she rips open the package. "It's just that I h-hoped—"

She shuts him up with a long kiss, laughing through it. "It's okay, Daichi. I hoped too."

They kiss again, while both clumsily working to roll the condom over his erection. Yui slips her hands under her skirt and impatiently yanks at her panties, shimmying them down her legs and plucking them off her ankle. Daichi's eyes widen just a tad when she hangs them on the doorknob, but even more so when she bunches up her skirt around her hips to free her legs and give him a quick view of her sex.

Hands twining around his neck, she pushes up off the bathroom floor and leaps for his waist, her knees fitting snugly on either side of him. Daichi slides his hands under her thighs, keeping her secure as they switch and it's her turn to be pressed up against the door, the front of her at Daichi's complete mercy.

They both sigh as their hips lock together.

"Ahh, let's do it quick," she breathes, pressing kisses to his face.

He looks unsure. "But you..."

She feels him weasel his way between her thighs and groans when his fingers find her slick entrance, thrusting down on them urgently. "Daichi, I'm okay," she insists, entirely winded. "I'm okay, please, let's just... _take me."_

He swallows roughly, easing her legs farther apart before he brings himself to her entrance. They both suck in air at the familiar feeling. He rests his forehead against her shoulder, grips her more securely, and with a single thrust of his hips he enters her whole.

A soft scream rips through Yui’s lips, as her walls stretch to take in all of him at once, and Daichi presses soft kisses to her neck to relax her. “Yui, we have to keep quiet,” he warns her, when they hear voices passing by the hallway, his own voice raspy from desire.

Yui nods once, eyes screwed shut, and bites the back of her knuckles like they would catch any noise that threatened to escape her mouth. A tight fist at his collar wrinkles his shirt, but it serves as her anchor.

Daichi gives her no warning when he pulls himself back out, the wet noise of their flesh sliding together echoing against the bathroom walls, and just barely has he pulled out that he pushes back in.

Yui loudly sucks in air, like she wants to cry out again, but instead she heaves from the pleasure and bites down on her knuckles until they’re bruising red. Daichi thrusts again, harder this time, sinking into her with ease now that she can feel her cum dribbling down her sex and across the fingers gripping her ass.

They kiss deeply, messily swapping spit and smothering each other’s long moans as he begins his rhythm. They’re used to this now, after the few times they’ve previously fucked and the countless times he’s pleasured her with his fingers. He knows her sweetest spot by memory and wastes no time in mercilessly thrusting against it.

 _“Oh, Daichi!”_ she keens, pleasure smashes into her at an alarming rate. Her legs curl around him as she slips down the rattling door, dazedly seeking his lips by following the trail of saliva that connects them. “Daichi, _god,_ you’re so good!”

“Say it again,” he growls against her shoulder, where he’s started placing kisses after her sleeve had slipped down her arm. He follows the hem of her rumpled collar down to where her cleavage has popped out, and he sucks on her skin there until she’s panting for breath. _“Say it.”_

“You’re so good, Daichi,” she obliges, stroking his face, kissing his collar. “Please, _please,_ do — _more_ — _faster_ —!”

He inhales sharply, seeming deeply satisfied by her response, and diligently picks up the pace. It’s amazing he hasn’t come himself already, with how close he had been to release before they had even begun. And she wants to tell him as much, but suddenly he’s kissing her like he wants to leave bruises on her lips that would last the rest of the year, and Yui has no more time than to hum a simple _“mm!”_ before his hand’s waded under her skirt and met with the sensitive flesh of her clit.

What follow are probably the most embarrassing noises Yui has made; deep, desperate moans that get swallowed by the wet sounds of their kisses and their sex, bouncing off the bathroom walls. Her face burns, but there’s no filter for the sounds when Daichi’s working her into her pending release.

“Let go, Yui,” he breathes against her, eyes glinting hard.

Choking back a cry, clutching desperately at his collar, she does just that. The last of her arousal seeps down her entrance.

Daichi grunts once, his knees shaking a little, before finally crumpling under her weight and sinking to the floor, taking her with him.

It’s only when they’ve slumped together on the cold tile, still tangled up and her trying to catch her breath, that she realizes he’s hard inside of her, yet to reach his own climax.

“D-Daichi…”

He shifts a little at the mention of his name, but his eyes blur when she gently pulls him out of her walls, yanking off the slick condom and taking him into her hand. Spurred on by his small, sporadic grunts, she jerks him until his orgasm spills into her hand.

Only then do they slump together, exhausted but not enough for a tight embrace.

 

 

 

The black and blue discoloration makes her frown, but no amount of poking or prodding magically erases it from her skin. Finally, she’s forced to relent and, with a sigh, cover the mark with the collar of her shirt.

“Well, at least it’s in an easy to cover spot!”

Behind her, Sawamura, who’s scrambling for the pants around his ankles, freezes momentarily to shoot her a sheepish look. “Sorry. Got a little excited.”

She shakes her head, smiling, and picks up his wallet from where it had slapped against the mirror and landed on the countertop thankfully intact. “You weren’t the only one.”

He accepts it gratefully, tucking it into his pocket, and with one final tug of his rumpled sleeve they’re both back to looking good as new. Or, as well as they can look when there’s still sheen on their foreheads from what they had done and certain, non-visible parts of their bodies hide enthusiastic hickeys that would take days still to fade. But they’re passable.

Yui presses a light kiss to his cheek, then passes him for the door. “Let’s head back quick, before they get suspicious.”

“They probably already are,” Sawamura reasons, but follows after her all the same. The bathroom behind them looks neat and completely untampered with, as if they hadn’t just pounced on each other for an unexpected quickie during an innocent coffee shop reunion.

Suga spots them first, and his innocent wave is anything but. His soft smile has a sort of devious edge to it. “There you two are! Sweet of you to wait for him, Michimiya. Though I would think Daichi could have at least found his way back by himself.”

“Ooh, bubble tea!” Yui notes cheerily, at the drink sitting before her place at the table. Acting like Suga’s words had gone unheard, she eagerly takes a giant swig of her drink that thoroughly polishes off at least half before she’s satisfied; the cool drink is refreshing after an intense round of sex. She sets the glass down with a smack of her lips. “Ah! That hits the spot!”

“Oh? Is this a quick little replay for us?” Suga whispers to Sawamura, who almost chokes on his coffee.

Shimizu and Asahi exchange looks, eyebrows raised, as if wondering whether they had missed the punchline to some joke.

“S-So!” Yui chirps, clapping her hands together. “What were you guys talking about!”

“Uhh, about the match.” Asahi stumbles over his words, still looking embarrassed, like he knows he should be even if he doesn’t quite understand the reason why.

Yui blinks once in confusion, and Suga elaborates, “The practice match Daichi and I came here for.”

“Oh!” She jumps a little in her seat, as the reminder comes crashing back to her. It had slipped her mind in all the excitement, but thinking back, it should definitely have been the first thing she had asked about. “How did it go! Did you guys kill it!”

“If by _it_ you mean our pride…”

She looks between the two boys, drooping slightly along with her enthusiasm. “Oh no.”

Suga’s laugh is humorless. “We were doing so good until the third set, too. Won the first and only lost the second by two points. But…”

Yui reflexively grabs on to Sawamura’s knee. Curling her fingers around it, she gives him a slight, reassuring squeeze under the table, throwing the two boys a sympathetic look.

Sawamura shoots her hand a surprised glance, a look of wonder resting on his face.

“I am _sure_ you’ll win next time,” she asserts confidently, holding on to his knee even tighter still as fire burns in her eyes.

Suga mumbles his gratitude, smiling at her sincerity.

But Sawamura, he settles his hand over hers in a private gesture, embodying intimacy in its most natural form. His voice is soft. “Thanks, Michimiya.”

 

 

 

There’s a chip in her nail polish on her ring finger. Yui only notices when Sawamura pauses their joined hands on the up-swing and rests his mouth on a knuckle, holding it there until finally letting them tumble back down the pendulum.

“You go and drop Michimiya back off at her dorm,” Suga had instructed, already pushing his old teammates along with him in the opposite direction. “We’ll get a head start towards Shimizu’s school.”

“It’s really not that far,” Yui had tried to protest, even though it had made her heart sing that Sawamura had immediately stepped to her side.

“Then Daichi’ll have no problem catching up!”

Even Shimizu had seemed to pick up on something stirring between the old captains, for she had helped him then in pushing Asahi down the street, who still looked utterly perplexed by their strange behavior but had allowed himself to be towed nonetheless.

Now, Yui sighs contently.

“Today was nice,” she hums, bumping into his side with her next step but not minding one bit. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Don’t thank me, I…” He loudly clears his throat. “I had an ulterior motive, after all. I really wanted to see you.”

Yui smiles secretly, bringing her other hand up to curl around his arm and properly latch on, then rests her cheek against his shoulder. He’s a strong, steady presence, and she wishes he was so all the time.

It’s funny how perspective changes with time, Yui thinks. On her way she had been so deliriously happy about how close her school was to the shop, for it meant less of a distance to travel before she could see Sawamura again. Now, she’s on the boy’s arm and her school comes into view almost like a dark, looming end to their time together. (Funny also, she thinks, how she had once been so sure about not wanting a relationship with her old crush, yet now it’s all she wishes for).

Sawamura, the gentleman, earnestly walks her up to her dorm. They stop right outside her door, detaching from one another.

Yui shuffles her weight from one foot to the other. “Thanks for walking me, Sawamura. Did you… want to come inside?”

It looks like it takes all of his self-control to say, “Maybe that’s not such a good idea. Besides, the others are expecting me.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She lets her disappointment show on her face, however, and his expression softens in response.

“I’ll see you over break, yeah?” He sounds encouraging, looking to the future rather than lingering on the present as he had always done. It’s an admirable quality of his that Yui had always admired and tried to emulate.

She perks, something hot already stirring in her chest at the thought of their next reunion. “I’ll definitely see you then.”

Something lingers in the air. For a moment they’re simply swaying in place, smiling gently at one another and never looking away. Both try to ignore the rush of longing in the pits of their stomach, an act they’ve both had to become accustomed to. But then there’s that something in the air, like the sparking awareness that they’re together for the first time in a long while and won’t be again for some time to come. And then they’re both stepping closer.

It’s like an old routine now, mouths melting against each other’s, hands coming to rest at their usual places. Yui bunches the back of his shirt as support to balance her on her toes, leaning up to meet him rather than bringing him down.

There’s a subtle hint of coffee on his tongue, but the kiss is sweet despite his preference for black. Yui’s not sure how long they stay there, just kissing slowly and lovingly to bring a perfect end to their impromptu date.

She _is_ aware, however, of footsteps heading their way. But the realization comes a little too late.

_“Gross.”_

Mao’s unenthusiastic drawl causes them to quickly jump apart. They look for the blonde in a daze, finding her with a hand on her hip and an eyebrow that’s disappeared into her bangs. “Hey, Sawamura,” she greets him, despite her questioning look never leaving Yui’s face. “Long time, no see.”

Sawamura’s expression is anything but welcoming at the moment. “Same to you,” he replies coolly, smoothing down his collar. “Guess I’ll be on my way now, then.”

Yui sadly meets his eyes. “Bye, Sawamura.”

He is significantly warmer towards her. “See you again, Michimiya.”

With a kiss to her cheek (and a reluctant nod towards Mao), Sawamura disappears around the hallway, not to be seen again for an immeasurable amount of time.

Yui sighs as she unlocks her door, kicking off her shoes on the way in, with Mao on her heels.

“Sorry I interrupted your face sucking,” her friend apologizes, sounding halfway sincere. “I take it the date went well?”

 _“Really_ well,” she grumbles, flopping down on her bed.

Mao rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I can tell by your angry face and angry voice and also the hickey on your neck.”

Yui claps a hand on her neck with a yelp, belatedly realizing her shirt had become skewed during their kiss and revealed the dark spot on her collarbone. She curls her lip at her best friend like it had somehow been her fault.

“So how come you’re upset about your date going well?”

 _“Because._ Now I want more.”

“Ahh. Well, this is the path you chose.”

Yui looks down at her fingers, frowning. “It is. Why am I such an idiot, Mao?”

Mao purses her lips, not saying anything for a moment, before she crosses the room to Yui’s side and gently swipes Yui’s bangs from her forehead. Her voice is just as soothing. “Not an idiot, Yui. Just guarded.”

“I don’t have to be, with Sawamura. I know that.”

“You might know it, but those bad experiences with your ex did a number on you,” Mao reasons. “It’s gonna take time for those awful feelings to go away. And Sawamura helps you with that, even I can see it, but he’s not around enough for the pace to really pick up. Your mind knows, but the rest of you doesn’t.” She breathes out, patting Yui’s cheek one last time. “I think the next time you see him, Yui, you’ll _know.”_

“The next time I see him,” Yui repeats, and already she can feel her anticipation building again. “I really hope our break gets here fast.”

“Don’t start counting days or else time’s gonna slow down,” Mao warns her, but she’s smiling as she returns to her side of the room.

Yui takes the chance to flutter her fingers over her lips, thinking of Sawamura’s kiss.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The winter time in her hometown is as frosty as ever. Cars are scarce in this time with the streets covered in sheets of ice, and with the snowfall so heavy and the wind like a vicious bite to the skin, even the people don’t wander the streets like they do in the summer. It’s quieter this time of year, more peaceful.

Yui feels anything but. Snug in her old bed, still clad in her pajamas at this early a time in the morning, she reaches for her phone with a hammering heart.

Sawamura had called her all but a few times during the rest of their time apart. Yui had understood; with the business of the semester, and no opportunities to come her way again, keeping in touch hadn’t been a luxury they had been allowed. And they hadn’t even had a solid reason like a relationship to keep them going. He’d called her as many times as was appropriate for an old high school friend whose advances had been thoroughly shut down.

But break is different. Break is their one time to disregard all their barriers. So maybe it’s a bit eager to call up Sawamura on the very first day of their holiday, but then, Yui has never been the patient type.

Sawamura doesn’t pick up on the first ring. It gives her enough time to glance outside and realize the wind’s picked up, pelting snow against her window.

He doesn’t pick up on the second ring, either. Yui picks at her pajama bottoms, littered with sunflowers, and thinks of the dress she had been wearing her first reunion with her old crush.

By the fourth ring Yui wonders whether she’d jumped the gun in calling so early, whether Sawamura’s still slumbering while she’s here with her heart hammering in her chest. But just as she’s about to hang up, a little discouraged, she hears a soft _click_ on the other end.

Sawamura’s panting so low and hard it’s like he’s just run a marathon, and in fact, he confirms it with his fumbled greeting when he stutters, “S-Sorry! I was out for my morning run. I came back to the phone ringing.”

“So diligent, even during break,” she teases, easing back in her bed for the conversation.

“Yeah, well. I can’t let the team think their next captain is a softie.” There’s a hint of pride in his tone as he reveals the news. After all, his team is not one anyone could frown upon — not a ragtag team of small town members, like from Yui’s quaint university, but one of the favorites to win among the prefecture as Sugawara had explained. Being named captain is no small achievement.

Yui almost bolts right back up off her pillows again. _“What?_ C-Captain? You’re going to be?”

“Coach gave me the news last week,” he boasts. “Though it’s not happening until next year, of course.”

“But still! Wow, wow! Sawamura, you’re so amazing!” She’s not shy about singing praises, and even if Sawamura’s only response is a low hum, she can tell he’s embarrassed in a flattered sort of way. “So tell me, future captain, when can I see you?” she asks eagerly.

“Oh.” His tone instantly turns somber. For a moment all she can hear is his soft, labored breathing, as he struggles to catch his breath. “Well, actually, Michimiya, I’m not coming home this break.”

Yui feels her stomach constrict. “You’re not?”

“My parents are going out of town for a wedding, so… there just wasn’t a point if no one is home,” he explains.

“O-Oh.”

Yui thinks of counting days, of waiting for the next time she would see Sawamura so that she would _know._ She thinks of waking inhumanly early that morning with excitement coiling in her stomach, of planning to run out in the middle of a snowstorm if it meant reuniting with him again. She thinks of wanting to touch warm, taut skin and skim over chapped lips. It seems those had been fruitless wishes.

“Sorry,” comes Sawamura’s voice, low and regretful.

“D-Don’t be!” Yui insists, gripping her phone harder. “It’s not anything to apologize about, Sawamura. I mean, there’s always next time… maybe.”

Silence lingers between them. Yui had filed away so many stories to tell when they spoke again, but she can’t remember a single one now. Instead, she just listens, to Sawamura wading through his apartment, his breathing still sporadic and a little gruff from his run. Yui shuffles her legs somewhat restlessly at the familiar sound.

The shower comes on with a light _squeak._ She can hear the muffled sound of water crashing against tiles, covered only by the rustling of clothes as Sawamura unsticks his sweaty clothes and undresses for his shower. His long, content sigh has her sucking her bottom lip under her teeth.

“Michimiya,” he grunts, struggling with shucking off what could very well be the last piece of clothing on his naked form, Yui realizes. “I was gonna take a quick shower. But if you want to talk after…”

There’s no response to his words at first. But then, Yui lets escape just the slightest of whimpers, so choked, so _disoriented,_ when the pads of her fingers ghost over her entrance.

Daichi’s words trail off a bit dumbly, as the realization dawns on him. Yui presses down more firmly, and sounds out a small groan. _“Ah!”_

“Y-Yui, are you—”

_“Hng.”_

Her knuckles tighten around her phone, her other hand buried deep in her pajama shorts like those many nights she had touched herself to thoughts of him. Her eyes flicker once to her door; it’s firmly shut, and she can hear no activity in the house what with the early hour. It’s just her, her fingers, and Daichi’s voice against her ear.

 _“Daichi,”_ she keens, opening her legs a little farther, to get comfortable. “You’re really not fair.”

 _“I’m_ not fair? You’re the one who—!”

Her tongue meets the roof of her mouse in a soft hiss, when she daringly ventures the tip of a finger into her walls. Her back slides farther down against her pillows. The back of her head taps against the headboard, her view of the ceiling going dark when she flutters her eyes shut, and only then does she venture deeper.

Daichi inhales sharply at her next whimper, so unconstrained and needy.

 _“Daichi,”_ she hums, her head lolling. “Keep talking.”

She thinks she can _hear_ his blush through the phone, from miles and miles away. Certainly he fumbles with his phone for a moment, before murmuring in a low voice, “What… do you want me to say?”

“Mm… tell me what to do.” She groans through the haze. “I have a finger inside me. Should I add another?”

He stops breathing for a moment, silence ringing on his end of the line. And then his voice rings clear, sharp with captain-like authority as he orders her, “Add another.”

Yui shudders as she complies, stretching her dampening walls in her search for pleasure. Daichi’s voice has always turned her knees to jelly, a deep baritone that commands respect and had enraptured her from the moment she had heard it change, their very first day at Karasuno when she had returned from break to find that her crush had very much started to become a man.

She moans long and slow as she moves her fingers, reminded of how Daichi had moved inside her that night on his parents’ couch and trying her best to replicate, to _feel_ as if he’s really there next to her. She digs the phone against her ear, bringing his voice closer.

There’s a low grunt from over the line, followed by a soft sigh, and she knows that he’s joined her with his own hand.

“Let’s do it slow, together,” she murmurs, feeling sweat form at the back of her neck as she pulls out, only to slide back in.

 _“Ghh.”_ Daichi’s choked response has her imagining the picture: back against the wall as the shower needlessly spills water, teeth clenched to show restraint as his hand fully grips his shaft and languidly strokes along the length, in tune to every one of her sounds. She imagines his body bare, shining with sweat from his run and from her voice against his ear.

“Daichi,” she whispers, “are you hard?”

“So hard it hurts.”

She sighs at his answer, adding his thickened cock to her mental picture, and pulses in again, walls clenching around her fingers. By now they’re coated with a thin layer of her arousal, and she’s dizzied by the sweet smell.

“I’m going faster,” she rasps, so aroused she can’t even find the strength to squint open her eyes, and picks up her pace. Her long, long groan has him growling lustfully. _“Ahhh…”_

 _“Yui. God._ You are _so_ —” Another growl interrupts his words, barely constrained, sounding so close to the edge as he obligingly jerks faster as well.

A laugh bubbles past her lips, more of a breathless gasp than anything, and tosses out another ultimatum. “Daichi, you can’t come before me. But you can’t slow down either.”

Somewhere in his incoherent mutterings she thinks she hears a low _“fuck”_ and laughs again.

“Okay, but. _Hng._ Yui, I’m getting close and—”

“Just keep talking to me, Daichi,” she croons, her thumb finding her clit to wildly rub against it, sending waves of pleasure shooting up her spine. “Help me finish. T-Tell me what you’re doing.”

“I’m… touching myself.”

_“Where?”_

_“Ah. Everywhere.”_

She groans at the back of her throat, pressing down harder, thinking of those calloused hands of his handling his erection without an ounce of delicacy in his thirst for release. She can feel herself building along with him, her muscles tight and coiled for her impending climax. She sees stars behind her eyelids. “I-I want to be there, Daichi. Tell me what you see.”

 _“Fuck._ I don’t — want to look — it’s embarrassing in front of the mirror—”

And the final piece clicks into place: Daichi jerking himself to her in front of the foggy bathroom mirror, watching his erection grow, seeing the lust dance across his own eyes. Yui hides her face in her pillows, and it takes one last pump, one last swipe, before she comes with a muffled scream and a burst of heat that sullies her shorts.

“Y-You come, too,” she commands, her chest heaving.

Daichi needs no more permission. There’s a grunt, a gasp, and then a long, gruff sigh as he reaches climax after her. Yui lies there panting, her toes curled, and listens to him struggle as well with catching his breath.

Finally, when her arms regain some of their strength, she pulls herself up on her bed and sings, “Hmm, that was fun.”

Daichi chuckles, still sounding weak. “Not the word I would have chosen.”

“That wasn’t fun for you?” she teases, biting back a smile.

“Oh, it’s always fun for me. But of all the words you could have picked.”

“Kinky,” she tries, and can’t hold back her embarrassed laugh. Daichi joins in.

By now her shorts are in need of a wash, most especially after she’d slid out her fingers and allowed the last of her cum to escape. Doing her best to contain the mess, she slips off her bed and tiptoes out the door, across the hall, and to her own bathroom without waking her parents. The door shuts softly behind her.

She looks into her own mirror, then. The lines of her last laugh have yet to fade, and there’s a glow surrounding her face that she knows is associated with talking to Sawamura again. A pink shade to her cheeks speaks of how shy she suddenly feels, for what they had just done in the heat of the moment.

But it’s her eyes she stares at, for there’s a certain sadness to them even now. She touches them through the mirror.

“Ahh, I wish you were here with me.”

It’s a familiar yearning, a wish she had been hoping would be granted today but now would have to wait for another, muddled chance. It burns a little brighter, to think that she could have enjoyed _his_ touch instead of her own if they had been allowed to meet.

Daichi laughs on his end, teasing. "Sounds like you finished just fine."

Yui shakes her head at that, smiling sadly. "Not like _that_. I just… like it when you're close."

“…Hm.”

There are no words to say in response, for either of them. They’ve felt this before, countless of times, and this time too nothing would change just from voicing the thought. Yui knows that; she wonders why she hadn’t been able to help herself anyway.

Eventually, Daichi breathes in. “So. Shower. I’ll… call you some other time?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “Some other time.”

There’s a soft _click,_ and then he’s gone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *HUGS AUTUMN* Thank you for all your help (again)!
> 
> Since chapter three is up, that means I've halfway finished chapter four (which is about ~6k). It'll be the last chapter! The plan is to finish it for Valentine's Day, so if all goes as planned, I will see you all in two weeks :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a week late with meeting my deadline :( I'm sorry, I was just so bogged down with school, exams, and work. But I kicked my butt into gear, and am here now to wish you a happy (belated) Valentine's day and to bring you the end to this sin!

* * *

 

 

Yui meets Sawamura again at the start of yet another school year.

For Spring vacation it’s her turn to skip the home visit; instead Mao tows her and their families along for a sightseeing trip, hopping between Kyoto shrines with her trusty camera in hand. In between posing for Mao (“It’s for a priceless memory,” the blonde insists, spending twenty minutes to attempt to capture the perfect angle of Yui praying at the temple), she manages still to think of Sawamura, however briefly.

“Hey, hey,” Mao hisses, sinking deeper into the onsen that night. “Leave those boy troubles in Miyagi, you hear?”

“Yeah… you’re right,” she agrees reluctantly, resting her head back to stare at the sky. She feels small in a way, looking out at the vastness. She hasn’t felt like this since high school.

The trip lasts one week, but Yui spends the next seven days in the art department’s dark room with Mao, helping her to develop the photos. She’s a little embarrassed to find herself the subject of most, if not all, of them, save for the rare few when their parents had requested a shot. Yui at the temple, Yui tentatively blowing on her takoyaki, Yui lounging in her yukata after their dip in the onsen.

She rests her cheek to Mao’s back, sighing affectionately. “Maybe I should just fall for you instead, Mao.”

“You’re not my type,” she instantly snarks. “Too dense and, honestly, too mopey.”

“H-Hey!” Poking her best friend in her side, _right_ at that spot she _knows_ is ticklish, she insists, “O-Only recently…”

“Suffering from Sawamura Syndrome,” she notes, nodding smartly. “Sawamura withdrawal. Sawamura deficiency. Sawa—”

 _“Mao!”_ Yui whines, when her best friend can’t keep a straight face. On a much more somber note, she tells her, “I was too chicken to send him a birthday greeting.”

 _“Clearly_ you have given up all birthing rights towards Sawamura’s children.” When her jab only earns her a crude look, she has to smile. “Yui, it’s not the end of the world. He’s a busy guy himself, and just as chicken when it comes to this stuff from the looks of it. He’ll understand.”

“But _I_ feel horrible,” she groans, hiding her face in her hands. “Even if we’ve got this… _thing,_ he’s still a friend!”

“Friends can forgive that kind of stuff.”

“So you’d forgive me if I forgot your birthday?”

Mao sniffs haughtily. “I said _friends_ can forgive, not best friends.” Her face softens. “Come on, Yui, you know Sawamura isn’t the kind of guy to put so much meaning behind this one, small gesture. You’re just blowing it up in your head because you haven’t seen him in so long. Deny it all you want, but you’re suffering from Sawamura deficiency.”

Yui shuffles her feet. “You’re always so wise, Mao.”

“It’s a blonde thing.” She grins. “And hey, if worst comes to worst, you can always send him a gift marked for December thirty-first and tell him it got lost in the mail.”

It doesn’t come to that, thankfully, when Sawamura calls her one quiet night for an idle chat, picking up her heart and dropping it in her throat.

“Sawamura, I’m sorry this is so late, but… happy birthday,” she says in a soft voice, nearing the end of their conversation, and hopes she would be forgiven.

“Huh? Oh!” He laughs cheerily. “No need to apologize for that. Actually all my greetings were late this year, since my phone kinda broke around my birthday.” Suga can be heard in the background hissing a soft _sorry,_ before Sawamura continues, his voice considerably warmer and more private, “Thanks for remembering, Michimiya.”

Yui throws her phone onto her dresser before flopping down onto her pillow, face first, and groaning into it. _“Ugh._ He’s _too nice_ and I like him _so much.”_

Across the room, Mao loudly pretends to yawn at this familiar scene.

After a stretch of silence, Yui pipes up, “Hey, Mao?”

“Mm, yeah?”

“You know that stuff you said?” She turns her head to rest her other cheek on the pillow, so she can meet her friend’s eyes. “About _knowing_ when I see Sawamura again?”

“What about it?”

“Why do you think this time will be any different than all the other times?” She frowns. It’s not that seeing Sawamura again hadn’t sent her heart into a jittery spiral, because it most certainly had. But it also hadn’t sent her chasing after a relationship with caution thrown to the wind. Recently, however, she can feel something… _building._

Mao clicks her tongue, not needing to give thought to her answer. _“Because,_ Yui, you’re _clearly_ head-over-heels in love with Sawamura again. You just refuse to admit it.”

Yui falters. “In love?”

Her friend nods solemnly, affirming, “Head-over-heels.”

_In love?_

Yui tosses the words over in her head again, careful with them like she is with all things so heavy. Sawamura Daichi had been her schoolgirl crush for possibly as long as she can remember; she had spent middle school glancing at him down hallways, spent high school shooting longing looks to the second gym until her teammates had pulled her out of her thoughts. Back then she’d known those feelings to be what they were: a first love.

After graduation, after separation, she’d thought she had finally shed those unreciprocated feelings. She’d found boys who liked her back, boys who could make her blush and feel like she wasn’t reaching for an unachievable goal any time she glanced upon their back. Finally, she had been free of that old crush from her childhood.

And yet, there it is again: the sense that something is _building._

Sawamura likes her back and Yui — she hasn’t felt this small yet this unmistakably _warm_ in a long time. Not since high school. Not since her eyes had followed Sawamura across the school courtyard of their own accord.

The feelings of a first love, even though Sawamura is no longer a _first._

“So that only leaves ‘love,’” she mumbles under her breath, a little lost in her wonder.

Mao raises an eyebrow, quietly asking her to explain, but Yui’s already righted herself on her bed and snatched the phone she had so callously thrown to her dresser.

“I have to see him,” she declares to the open room, and it’s the only warning for either of them before she presses _redial._

Mao is taken aback. “Wh—!”

Yui puts a finger to her lips when she hears the first ring, looking at her friend sternly even though her own leg is shaking uncontrollably as she waits to hear the _click_ on the end that would mean there would be no turning back.

“Michimiya?” She tenses at his voice, even as he laughs at her unexpected call. “What, was there something else to wish me over that I’m forgetting about?”

“N-No!” The word falls out her mouth like a rushing rapid, unstoppable, and suddenly a stream of words follows. “I-I’m sorry for calling again so soon it’s just that I wanted to ask you a question and honestly it’s silly since this could have waited but in another way it really couldn’t becauseIreallywanttoseeyou—”

“Whoa, there! Michimiya,” he interrupts her calmly, despite the surprise at the very base of his tone. “You’re rambling. Why don’t you start over, more slowly so I can understand you?”

Yui breathes in loudly, shooting a quick look at Mao, who’s staring at her suspiciously, before wetting her lips once. She tries again. “My mom told me the Summer Festival is already being planned for this year. For the beginning of our break this year.”

“Oh?”

“And I wanted to ask you to go with me,” she blurts out, her leg finally stilling its incessant quiver.

Sawamura is quiet for a beat, possibly shocked by her boldness. Then, he repeats, “...Go with you?”

“Yeah! I mean, I know it’s still months away. But. I mean. I figured if we planned early enough we’d both be sure to go home for break and stuff.” She can feel her face pinking, but plows on. “What do you say?”

“I, uh. Y-Yeah. Of course, I’d love to.” He answers in a voice of wonder, as if he’s still unsure of what had transpired.

“Great! I’m really glad!” She giddily flashes a thumbs-up to Mao across the room, who looks mildly impressed as she returns it. “Don’t forget, okay? I’ll talk to you again soon!”

“I definitely won’t forget,” he promises, quietly.

The date gets marked with three obnoxious red hearts in Yui’s calendar, surrounding the words she had squeezed into the block that was certainly not big enough to contain all her excitement: _second date!!!!!_

 

 

 

Summer is sticky this year. Yui feels as if the sun’s residue lingers on her skin as she fishes for one of her lighter yukata from the back of her mother’s closet, miraculously finding a matching hairpin buried deep, _deep_ in her underwear drawer while trying to find a set.

“I’m leaving!” she bellows into the empty house, hurriedly slipping on her sandals and locking the door behind her. Her parents have gone for an overnight conference, not to return for the weekend, but Yui’s only grateful her mother hadn’t been around to shoot her knowing looks as she stressed about looking well for her date; she’d always wanted Yui to confess and finally bring a son into the family, especially one as fine as Sawamura.

She finds only a dwindling crowd in the streets and knows most of her neighbors have probably already gathered on the festival grounds, to enjoy the night despite the stickiness in the air. It’s the company that matters most, after all, and Yui’s heart squeezes as she remembers who’s waiting for her by the entrance.

Sawamura had arrived back in Miyagi only a day sooner than her and Mao, though already a week has lapsed since they had made plans to meet — the first day of the festival, as early a time as Yui could arrange for.

“And wear a yukata!” she had excitedly tacked on, grinning down at her wiggling toes.

“Hmm… I might not have one that fits me anymore…”

“Then buy one!” she had laughed, knowing she was being spoiled but taking advantage. And though he could not see her, she had batted her eyes at the phone and dropped her voice to a soft plead, and breathed, _“Please?”_

His weak “okay” had set off her laughter again, until she’d remembered well after the phone call that she might not have one that fit her anymore either. It had taken some digging to find a trunk of her old clothing that had never fit in high school.

She looks okay now though, she thinks, smoothing down the orange blossom design of her summer yukata as the festival approaches her sight, illuminated by strings of lanterns and fairy lights. Yui gasps, and she might have lost herself in the dream-like decorations if a much brighter star hadn’t been awaiting her.

It only takes a quick rise to her toes and a once over of the crowd to spot him by the festival gate. Yui means to wave, to squeal a delighted “Sawamura!” as she joins her companion for the night.

Except she’s taken one step, uttered one syllable, before a lump in her throat takes her voice hostage. Her one syllable gets carried into the wind. “Sawa…”

And maybe _beautiful_ isn’t the word to describe him. But Sawamura is — _something._

Gorgeous, maybe. A prettier sight than even the prettiest of fairy lights, maybe, plucked straight from her fantasies and placed in front of her now.

He looks older in a way, in a pale green yukata that offsets his tan skin and clings to his shoulder blades in ways like it knows Yui has always been weak to the steadier parts of Sawamura’s frame. The front seam flaps open just enough in the wind that she follows his clavicle before it disappears beneath the fabric. It suits him in every way.

Arms tucked into his sleeves, giving form to his patience, he turns at her call. When their eyes meet, his face melts into a smile made even warmer by the lights that hang in the background. “Ah. Michimiya, you’re here.”

And Yui’s heart — stutters, skips a beat, certainly stops working for a moment. _Love_ wades through her barren thoughts. Then a single memory: a clutter of exes and bad experiences and longing in her stomach and, finally, Mao’s “when you see him, you’ll _know.”_

Yui had always thought an epiphany was a moment as grand as running bare through the streets shouting absurdities.

This doesn’t feel so grand. But the realization crashes into her just as suddenly.

Sawamura suddenly knocks a knuckle to her forehead, grinning down at her. Yui startles, wondering when he had gotten so close and how she had possibly failed to realize it (and so many other things).

“What are you spacing out for, hm?” he teases kindly, leaning in close. “Bored of me already?”

“N—! Nuh-uh!” Refusing to be flustered — not now, not _already_ — she grins cheerily up at him and admits, “Just admiring you in your yukata. Thanks for wearing it!”

“Ah, well…” He rubs the back of his neck, looking away. It’s cute, she thinks, how easily he’s embarrassed.

“Come on, let’s go into the festival!” she prompts, impatiently rushing on ahead. Sawamura chuckles, but easily falls into her pace and follows after her.

Stepping through the gate feels like stepping through a sound barrier of sorts; suddenly they’re taken out of their serene environment and thrust into a packed crowd of some familiar faces, sweet smells, and vivid colors that assault their eyes at every turn. Yui gasps in delight at the stuffed animals she can see lining the stalls.

“It all looks so _exciting!”_ she chirps, as if this isn’t the same festival she’s attended every year since she was a child. Somehow the excitement has never worn off; she loves the busy atmosphere, loves the collective thrill that hangs in the air among the festival-goers. And this year she has a companion she hopes to make a memory with.

Sawamura finally falls into step at her side, smiling vaguely at everything his eye catches. Yui is slightly disappointed to glance at his hands and find them still tucked into his sleeves. She’d been hoping for their hands to accidentally brush, or even to dare hook his pinkie with her own before being bold enough to take his hand. Her plan crumbles.

“Lead the way, Michimiya,” he hums, still smiling in this appeasing way like he’s content to just watch over her excitement the whole night.

Yui takes a moment to collect herself, mentally bringing her hands down to her cheeks to sting them red, before her mood picks up again. There would be other chances to hold Sawamura’s hand, she tells herself, before declaring, “To the ring tossing booth with the cute koala bear that looks like Azumane!”

Sawamura belts out a laugh, letting her drag him by the yukata sleeve as he snickers at the image he can no longer unsee.

It’s a good start. Yui continues to throw herself into each stall, pleased that her enthusiasm seems to charm Sawamura rather than push him away. She doesn’t even mind loss, not after the first time when he rests a hand on the small of her back and hums into her ear in sympathy, unknowingly sending all the blood in her body surging to the places he had touched.

When hunger hits, she drags him to the takoyaki stand, carefully pricking one before bringing it to Sawamura’s mouth to feed him, smiling when _he_ smiles so contently. They pause at the fish-scooping stall only so Yui can marvel at the pretty colors, and she’s overcome with a familiar feeling she can’t quite place until she remembers _this_ is where she and Sawamura had reunited years ago, inadvertently leading them to this moment.

In a sudden burst of nerves, she can’t keep from babbling. “You know, I won two fish from this stall when I was a kid. I was super excited! Really, _really!_ I made sure to feed them every day, even _three_ times a day. Except I think I was a little _too_ excited maybe, because I ended up overfeeding them and they both died.”

“Your intentions were good,” Sawamura assures her, kindly. And Yui hadn’t realized she’d been holding on to lingering guilt until she suddenly lets it all go.

They share their carriage in the Ferris wheel with a weary mother and her overzealous son, who is _delighted_ to see the festival’s glorious view from the top. Yui pulls him into her lap to share in his joy, giggling together as they share stories of their favorite stalls so far. Mao and Chizuru might have called this a wasted opportunity, but Yui shyly returns Sawamura’s fond smile, ethereal from the festival lanterns and the reflection of the moonlight, and thinks _this_ might be the memory she holds on to forever.

“He was so cute,” she sighs affectionately, waving off the mother and son pair after their ride comes to a stop. “That’s the best thing about festivals, don’t you think? Lots of good people. Lots of happy people.”

“Lots of really great people,” he echoes, brushing bangs away from her face. The moment lasts but a single instant before he pulls away, but Yui’s not sure she’ll _ever_ catch her breath.

For a while they simply wander through the festival, enjoying the people and being by each other’s side. There still haven’t been any chances to hold Sawamura’s hand, but Yui knows better than anyone that the game’s not over until the ball hits the ground. She’s patient.

They pass by their first booth again, the koala bear still resting tauntingly on the highest shelf, and Yui shoots it a crude look. “Darn you, Koalamane! You win _this_ year.”

Sawamura cracks an amused smile, looking between them. “You really wanted it that badly?”

“I wanted to show it to Mao and Chizuru and Sugawara. I bet they would _love_ it!” She kicks at the ground once. “And maybe I feel a little guilty that we didn’t invite them along.”

“Hmm…” He looks musingly at the stuffed toy, slowly untucking his hands. “Want me to give it a try?”

“Really?” Yui perks, not even making a move to hide any of her hope.

“We can’t deny anyone else the pleasure of koala Asahi,” he insists, a wicked gleam in his eyes that suggests his true intentions are far worse. Yui just eagerly follows him to the booth, slowly getting used to his strange friendship with the old ace.

Sawamura’s not the best receiver she knows for nothing; there are very few out there who rival his sharp eye and his precise movements. He strides up to the booth confidently, never falters when he picks up each ring, and Yui claps enthusiastically with every point he garners. Before long she’s holding the stuffed toy in her hands, biting back a smile as Sawamura and the booth owner exchange sparks between them.

“Thanks, Sawamura,” she says softly, after they’ve finally wandered away.

He rolls down his sleeves. “No need to thank me. I just hope you can give it a good home.”

“We-ell…” She bites her lip, wondering if she could really be so bold. But then, boldness had gotten her _this_ far. “I was thinking maybe you could keep him?”

His eyebrows pinch. “I won him for you.”

“I know! And I love him! But maybe you could keep him… and then… I’d have an excuse to come visit you some time?” she finally blurts out, doing everything in her power not to bury her face in the koala’s neck and never come out.

This is it, the barest form of her feelings laid out before him. So she’d beaten around the bush a little. It doesn’t change her intended message, and it’s that maybe she wants more than just this _thing_ they have between them that manifests once a year. Maybe she wants excuses to see him more — excuses that could slowly turn into something solid.

Sawamura freezes halfway through rolling down his other sleeve, his whole face hardening to match the furrow of his eyebrows. He stares at her long and stern, slowly tucking his hands back into his sleeves, before finally he sighs in a way that has her deflating. This doesn’t meet any of her expectations.

“I think you should keep him,” he says, shaking his head. “I won him for you, like I said. And I don’t really have a need for a stuffed animal.”

“O-Oh.” Yui watches him turn his back, suddenly feeling smaller than she’s ever felt. But maybe she’s the one at fault, for getting her hopes up over something so silly. What boy would want a stuffed koala sitting on his bed? “Right! _Of course._ S-Sorry. _”_

“Nothing to apologize for,” he assures her, but he doesn’t face her as he says it and Yui can’t tell from his hard voice whether it had even been sincere.

The sudden strange mood that’s nested between them persists. They wander through a few more booths, new and old, and though Yui approaches each one with the same zeal she had displayed all night, she can feel that something’s changed. There are less smiles now; while before their night had been full of gentle laughter, Sawamura suddenly can’t seem bothered to even quirk his lips. He simply continues to watch over Yui with that same stern face that makes her feel oh, so small — and not in that way when _love_ drifts through her barren mind.

The fireworks display begins when the clock strikes midnight, as it has since years past. They make the trek up to the highest hill on the festival grounds, a prime spot that had drawn quite a large crowd that they lose themselves in.

The first firework combusts in colors of fiery red, before a bottled green color follows as a complement.

Even Sawamura loses himself in the vibrant light, mouth parting though he watches in silent awe. Yui’s starry eyes forcefully break away from the sight to notice that finally his hands have fallen free of their confines, dangling at his sides as he drinks in the light of the fireworks.

Before she can lose her nerve, she quickly grips one around the middle, like she’s been longing for all night.

But the moment, it feels all _wrong._

It’s not some hazy feeling that warms her up on the inside, or butterflies in her stomach that dare her to step a little closer. Sawamura stiffens under her touch, goes absolutely _rigid._ And while he doesn’t pull back, while he doesn’t look away from the brilliance of the fireworks, he also doesn’t squeeze her fingers as she does his.

“Should we head back?” he asks, once the light show finally comes to an end. His voice is coarse. “It’s pretty late.”

“Yeah, okay.” She lets their fingers break apart, and he leads the way.

The walk to Yui’s home is not silent. She chatters on about life since she had seen him last, about Mao and Chizuru and Chizuru’s waiter boyfriend who had turned out to be every bit as sweet as the girl had said. Sawamura loosens at such familiar conversation, replying to her inquiries about his classes and his captaincy and Sugawara.

“Sugawara got _glasses?”_ she squeaks, trying to picture him no longer without the face she had always known.

“I told him all that late-night reading would catch up with him, but he never believes me when I say I know better.” He shakes his head. “At least he doesn’t look half bad.”

“I bet he’s very handsome!” she defends him, somehow feeling like she must. “There were tons of girls at Karasuno who had a crush on him, you know.”

“No kidding?” He looks mildly impressed.

Yui gnaws on her lip. _And I had a crush on you,_ she wants to say. Except she’s thinking of Sawamura’s stiff hand in hers and feeling so small at his side, and the words get lost somewhere before they can form.

Her house comes into view from the street corner, dark and still. Sawamura doesn’t have to, but he walks her to her doorstep rather than simply watch her from a distance, and Yui is reminded of the hundreds of reasons why she likes this boy so much.

“Tonight was fun,” he mumbles, gruff, and this time she can tell his words are as sincere as the red she catches on his cheeks.

She clutches the stuffed koala to her chest. “I had a lot of fun, too. Thanks for winning me this, Sawamura.”

At last, she’s rewarded with a smile again. “It was no problem. Make sure you take care of him well. And post a picture of him online and tag Asahi in it.”

“You’re horrible,” she laughs, scrunching her nose, and Sawamura flashes her one last affectionate smile for the night before turning to go.

Yui feels that haziness again, the kind that warms her to her toes, the kind that she associates with being in close proximity to her first love. This is the Sawamura Daichi she loves, this boy who mollycoddles her even when she asks him not to, who swipes her bangs from her face with the gentlest fingers and can grin like she’s just handed him the world when really it’s him who’s given her so much more. This is the boy who is her first love, her _current_ love.

As he turns to go, the moonlight catches his sturdy frame just one last time. She spies the broad plane of his back, disrupted only by smooth shoulder blades. Sometime during the night, his yukata had parted further to give a wider view of his chest, firm and taut skin beneath the pale green fabric. She imagines pressing kisses there, imagines skimming his skin while her fingers at his obi allow his yukata to fall away, imagines her thumbs rubbing circles on his hips and her lips competing with the moonlight to kiss the insides of his thighs.

Her heartbeat quickens.

“Daichi?” she whispers, for her voice won’t rise any higher. He stills. “Do you want to come inside for a bit? My parents aren’t home.”

The implication is there, embedded in the invitation. They’re both aware what’s on her mind, what’s suddenly flashing through his steely eyes. For a moment they both think he’s going to accept.

But then the moment passes. Sawamura steps back, sighing wearily. “Ah. Not today, I think.”

Yui feels her stomach coil, the butterflies suffocating one by one.

“Make sure you lock up tight, okay?” he lectures her, softly, nodding at her empty house. With one last attempt at a smile, he departs to disappear into the night.

And Yui is left strangely feeling as if the ball had hit the ground a long time ago, and she had simply just not realized.

 

 

 

It’s taken four years for Yui to realize that these breaks, these short intervals of time to see Sawamura again, are never going to be long enough. She’s always going to be left wishing they’d met one more time, sneaked one last kiss, shared affectionate smiles just once more. This past year she had learned this again, excruciatingly so.

With this newfound boldness of hers, the strength that’s come with this sudden realization of feelings, she invites Sawamura out again.

_wanna go see a movie? c:_

The reply comes not too long after. _Sure. Okay if I invite Suga? :)_

Oh. She bites her lip, tap-tap-tapping her thumbs against the keys as she mulls. What she’d wanted was a third date, a chance to right whatever it was she had done wrong at the festival. But she’s not someone who can easily refuse.

_it’s totally okay! i’ll invite mao and chizu too so it’ll be lots of fun!!!_

She lifts her spirits for the night with some effort; after all, a chance for everyone to be together is rare (even if a chance to be alone with Sawamura is even rarer still). The boys are waiting for them outside the theater, breaking off mid-chatter at Yui’s audible gasp that can be heard from halfway down the street.

“Sugawara, you look _so handsome!”_ she exclaims, pelting into him in her excitement. The impact almost knocks his glasses askew.

 _“Oof!_ Th-thanks, Michimiya.” He manages a smile, readjusting the frames on his nose. “And hello to you, too.”

She beams, looking between the two boys. Sawamura has his hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels, looking amused by their exchange. His strange mood from the other night seems to have evaporated and she’s glad for it.

“Come on, come on, the movie’s probably starting,” Mao pipes up, walking straight past them. “We would have been here sooner but Chizuru just _had_ to play the _“no, you hang up first”_ game with her boyfriend.”

Chizuru flushes as she trails after the blonde, shyly bowing her head at the boys as she passes them.

“Let’s go, too!” Yui chirps, dragging them both in by the wrists. A burst of cold air rushes past them when they step inside, and she has to let go to curl into herself, rubbing at the goosebumps rising on her bare arms to generate heat. _“Brr!_ It’s so cold!”

Mao narrows her eyes. “I _told_ you to bring a sweater, but you had to be stubborn.”

“It’s summer!”

“Yeah, but they keep this theater ice cold, you know that. Why do we go through this every time?”

Yui is sheepish, remembering years of wailing into Mao’s shoulder about how she couldn’t enjoy the movie because her fingers were going numb. She’s always been a warm person, both inside and out, but even she was not impervious in such extremes.

The rather one-sided argument is only nullified when Sawamura plucks off his own jacket and plops it on her shoulders instead, ruffling her hair as he passes. “Here, you can use mine.”

She falters at the sudden offer, sure her face is turning pink as all their friends stare at the duo. “Um, are you sure? Then you’ll be cold.”

“It’s okay,” he chuckles. “I have an unusually high internal body temperature. Or something.”

“Mm. Then. Thank you.” She fits her arms through the sleeves and zips up the jacket all the way up to the collar, and then she’s basically swimming in it. The sleeves need to be rolled a bit and even then it’s too big to fit her quite right, but she’s comforted by Sawamura’s warmth in more ways than one.

Sugawara does the tactful thing this time and allows them the seats next to one another, and Yui is grateful for this chance for her arm to press against Sawamura’s. It feels as if this is the closest contact they’ve been allowed for a long, long time.

There are no stolen glances this time. Sawamura is engrossed in the movie, from what she can tell. But Yui can’t resist quick peeks at his profile, eyes alit from the movie screen, lips chapped but so familiar-looking. At one point she thinks she might have caught him looking at her too, but then she blinks and the moment passes, perhaps just a trick of the light or her own wishful thinking.

Mao stretches loudly when the dim lights are lit once again, hands reaching above her head. _“Mm,_ that was _so good.”_

She’s met with weak murmurs at her words, most of them inwardly musing that they would never have let her choose the movie if they’d realized she thrived in the face of violence and blood. Only Sawamura hums loudly in agreement, falling into step with her at the front of the group, and they quickly dissolve into a conversation about the movie while Chizuru attempts to offer her own two-cents worth.

Sugawara appears beside Yui, noting her troubled expression. “Something wrong?”

Her frown deepens, though she’s unsure when she asks, “Hey, Sugawara. Is… Sawamura mad at me?”

She’s met with puzzlement in response. “Huh? He didn’t say anything to me.”

“Really?” Perhaps if he’d said nothing to his own best friend, she had just imagined it — that after the movie’s end, Sawamura couldn’t seem to leave her side fast enough. He’s clearly immersed in his discussion with Mao, though, so she has to believe he really had just enjoyed the movie that much. “Well, if he didn’t say anything, then I guess it’s okay.”

“Has he been treating you badly?” Suga asks, his voice chilling by a few degrees.

Yui jumps. “Ah! No, no! He just seemed a little moodier is all.”

“Hmm. Well.” He puts a finger to his chin. “Recently he’s been very busy, with being named captain and choosing what he wants to do after school is over and all. It’s busy for everyone, you know?”

She purses her lips. What Sawamura’s going through isn’t something she can understand, after having been offered a job at an animal clinic near her school which had solidified her plans for after college. Briefly she wonders what Sawamura is planning, whether he’s going somewhere even farther away from her soon.

“Ahh, I wish I could do something for him,” she laments aloud, sadly.

Suga’s smile is encouraging. “I think just being here for him is enough, if it’s you. He likes you a lot, after all. Having you around puts him at _ease_ somehow.”

Her reddening, flattered face only widens his smile.

“Oi, would the two slowpokes please pick up the pace?” Mao suddenly calls to them, turning to dryly wave them over.

They’ve already reached the fork in the road where the girls go one way and the boys another. Yui can see Sawamura quietly leaning back against the wall, waiting for them; their eyes meet, before he quickly flicks his gaze to Suga instead. She wonders what it means.

“Go on,” Suga whispers, giving her a nudge towards the boy.

He and the girls put space between them and the two captains, gladly giving them time together. Unzipping the jacket he had draped over her, Yui nervously approaches him alone.

“Um, thanks for this,” Yui tells him, unrolling the sleeves before slipping it off her shoulders.

“You can keep it, if you’re still cold,” he assures her, but she’s already pressing it to his chest along with herself. He stiffens at her advances, frowning down at her.

“I’m okay, but thanks for being so nice.” She smiles, one of those soft ones she only ever reserves for him. He’s warm like he’d said he was; she can feel him through his T-shirt and her own, can feel goosebumps rising up her arms that she has no excuse for anymore. With a sigh, Yui rises to her toes to catch his lips in a sweet farewell.

But before she can melt against his mouth, Sawamura turns his face away. She only bangs against his cheek instead.

Chizuru squeaks, clapping a hand over her mouth. The other two, who had seen the entire exchange, are similarly frozen in place. But no one is more shocked than Yui, who lets his jacket slip from her fingers.

Sawamura stares at the ground, so he won’t have to look at her hurt face, at her eyes demanding answers. One curt word slips past his lips. “Sorry.”

“Did I… do something wrong?” she asks, her voice shaking with grief.

“Of course not,” is the automatic reply. But then he side-steps around her, no word of explanation, before scooping up his fallen jacket and starting down his path home. “I’ll see you around, Michimiya.”

The remaining four linger in silence, watching his back get farther away, all stunned mute. Yui feels asphalt under her feet and wishes she didn’t, that it would crack under the pressure and she would tumble into a dark place more fitting for her grief.

Sugawara’s hand on her shoulder jolts her. “I’ll talk to him,” he murmurs in promise, looking both stunned and sympathetic at the same time, before rushing to follow after his best friend. He, too, gets swallowed up by the darkness.

 _“What_ was that about?” Mao hisses, staring after Sawamura with offense. “Yui, you didn’t mention he’s been acting like a total — _oh, frick.”_ Whatever biting words she’d been about to spew get tied up on her tongue when she notices the wetness in Yui’s eyes, dislodging onto her cheeks.

Chizuru rushes to hug her, her lip trembling, and Yui feels the façade she had desperately been trying to keep up break apart.

“I don’t _know!”_ she wails into the night, sniffing into her friend’s shoulder. “I don’t _know_ what that was about! I think I did something wrong b-but I don’t know _what_ and Sawamura won’t look at me right and he didn’t want to hold my hand at the festival and I don’t think he likes me anymore and—!”

Mao hastens to join their embrace, scooping both girls into her arms when it looks like Chizuru is close to tears herself from the sympathy. “Shh. Yui. It’ll be okay.”

“It _won’t!”_ she squeaks, her breath shaky and slow. “Maybe he has someone else, Mao, or he just doesn’t feel that way about me anymore. But I didn’t know how to ask. I-I don’t want him to start hating me.”

“He could _never_ hate you,” both her friends say in unison, firmly.

Yui sniffles. “Y-You think?”

“Of course,” is Mao’s smooth reply. “I don’t think Sawamura is even capable of hate. In any case, he’s not the sort to start this sort of drama. He’ll talk to you when the time is right, you know he will. Give him time to think, and let me know if I need to go kicking in his door.”

Yui manages a weak smile, squeezing her friends tighter for support. “Thanks, you two.”

Still, even while they’re all tangled up in each other’s arms, Yui can’t help looking off into the darkness in which Sawamura had vanished without a second glance. She wonders if he would ever return to her.

 

 

 

She doesn’t get to see Sawamura again.

Some part of her hopes his vague parting words had meant something, but he doesn’t call or ask to see her again, and Yui passes the rest of her break with Mao and Chizuru, her parents, old high school friends — but not Sawamura.

Just once more she finds that temporary boldness of hers and messages him. _good morning!!! i hope something good happens to you today!! :D_

All she receives for her efforts is a stale, _Thanks. You too._

After that, old insecurities make themselves known again. Maybe Sawamura has found someone else. Maybe Sawamura had fallen out of like with her. Maybe her incessant, chirpy self had finally begun to grate Sawamura’s nerves. Yui wonders what she’d said that night at the festival that had turned this switch in him.

For all her recent boldness, her fresh start in college, her promise to herself to find that confidence she had once lost, Yui is still that high school girl who had thought it was only natural her team would lose in the first round of the Inter-High, who had thought Sawamura would never look at her the way she wanted him to.

That’s how the rest of break passes, with these moments of doubt intermingled between the nicer memories. The morning of her return it’s particularly worse; this is it, the last time they would be in close range for another year (maybe longer, even, if his future plans involved putting more distance between them). They hadn’t seen each other again, hadn’t talked to each other again, and she had never gotten to tell him how she felt.

When Yui tumbles out her front door, duffle bag in hand, she’s expecting _this_ to be the bitter end of their story.

But there’s a car parked right on the other side of her gate, and Sawamura leans against it, hands breezily tucked into his jeans.

Her mouth falls open. “Uh…?”

He glances at her at the sound, leaning up and more firmly rooting himself to the ground. “Oh. Is that all you have with you? Here.”

Yui lets him snatch her bag, too stunned to protest or even say anything as he places it in the backseat of the car. Then he turns back to her with arms slightly splayed, an action that seems to prompt her for more luggage, and Yui is still at a loss.

“Why are you…”

“Your mother, um, mentioned that you’re leaving alone for school this time?” he explains reluctantly, as if asking permission whether that’s an acceptable reason. “That just didn’t sit well with me.”

Yui’s mother comes up behind them before she can respond, her smile fond. “What a sweet boy you are. Isn’t he, Yui?”

“Okaa-san!” she splutters, looking between them. “What exactly is going on!”

“Well, I ran into Sawamura-kun here at the market,” she laughs, thumping his back and making him fidget nervously in her presence. “He carried my basket for me, isn’t that so sweet? And then I mentioned how there’s no one to take you to the train station this time around, and well, he _would not_ stand for it! Isn’t that right?”

“Um…” Yui wonders whether her mother had embellished a bit, to see Sawamura fidgeting like this. But then, she hopes she hadn’t been when he agrees, “That’s right. It’s dangerous to go alone. I offered to drive you and borrowed my dad’s car.”

Yui still feels as if she’s entered some sort of surreal reality minutes later, when her starry-eyed mother waves them off and then she and Sawamura are alone.

The sound of tire over asphalt is almost a soothing noise in the background. The silence in the car between them is not so smooth. Yui fidgets with her hands in her lap, thinks of what she could possibly say; she’s still clueless over Sawamura’s sudden change in personality, unsure whether this was an act of courtesy or a gesture to renew their friendship. It’s not like her to bear the silence, but she does so.

“Your friends…” he pipes up some odd miles down the road, turning onto a much quieter street. Buildings morph into trees. “Did they both go ahead of you?”

“W-Well, Chizuru and her parents left to visit her grandparents for these last few days of our break,” she explains, awkwardly tucking hair behind one ear. “They’re going to drop her off at school some time tomorrow. And Mao, she won an award for her photography from the art school, so she had to go early to set up for an exhibition of some sort.” She shrugs. “My dad offered to take the day off work to drive me, but I knew that he was busy so I told him I’d just take a taxi…”

The tight look of disapproval on his face has her trailing off.

“Sorry. I know that’s dangerous. Thanks for driving me.”

“Anything for a friend,” he responds automatically, and Yui looks out her window wondering if that’s really what she is — if that’s _all_ she is.

Silence, again. Yui’s never been very good in the quiet. And somehow, some part of her had thought if she could just see Sawamura again, everything would miraculously resolve itself between them. But they’re sitting in daunting silence, even though they _never_ had those back in carefree high school days, and Yui — she _misses_ him.

She misses volleyball chats by the windowsill, lunchtime encounters in the cafeteria line, walks home after grueling practices. Misses good-morning texts and late night phone calls before she drifts off to sleep. Misses the thrill of their next chance to meet, for her heartbeat to quicken at Sawamura’s silhouette so steady and handsome, at Sawamura’s smile so crooked and endearing. Misses kisses on her neck and fingers on her thighs, breathing as one, turning slick and warm after just one touch.

Sawamura won’t look at her even though there’s nothing but him and her on this winding road. And Yui has no distractions from this sudden surge of emotions; she wants him to _look_ at her again, to touch her and taste her, to turn her into putty in his hands. More than anything, she wants him to call her _Yui._

Her voice croaks. “Daichi, pull over.”

He’s startled by the sudden demand, frowning when his side-along glance pierces her face. But he’s not prepared for fingers on his thighs, squeezing the sensitive insides before she travels up to take his crotch for her own. His eyes pop. _“Mich — what—”_

She presses flatter, and the car jerks in response, stuttering over gravel before he just barely manages to skid it back under his control. And Yui slides in closer to repeat, desperate and hollow, “Pull _over_ …”

A needy whimper has him swallowing in response, before he willingly gives in to her request. The car putters over untamed dirt before shuddering to a stop, all background noise falling away. There’s a _click_ of Yui’s seatbelt being abandoned, and then her skirt flutters, riding up to pool at her hips, when her legs fall snug against his thighs.

Lips descend on his.

Yui thinks it should be an old routine now, kissing Daichi. But she’s never gotten over that intensity of something building in her stomach, of her hands wandering places of their own accord to feel as much of him as she can, of the way his mouth moves against hers as it accepts her almost unwillingly. She’ll never get over Daichi kissing her back.

It’s not until she claws at his zipper, messily popping the button to cup what protrudes of his semi, that he breaks away from feverish kisses to hiss, _“Michimiya!”_

“Tell me to stop,” she breathes against his ear, stroking without a hint of a pause. “Say it and I will. I-I promise.”

 _“Ghh.”_ He looks almost pained, biting down hard on his lip as the excuses clearly flit through his minds, reflected in his stubborn eyes. But she’s relentless with her fondling, digging deeper into the space between his jeans. For once Daichi’s control crumbles, his lips actively seeking hers.

Yui snakes a hand below the seat to find the lever that sends them toppling back by a few degrees, and fits herself more firmly on top of his large frame. His hands on her bare thighs make her shiver, and instinctively she sits on top of his erection and starts to rock slow against him, grinding down on sensitive flesh as they lose themselves in a hasty make-out job. Daichi’s low grunts spur her on, so do his arms wrapping her up so fully in their warmth Yui could almost believe they would never be parted again. _This_ is how close she always wants him to be.

At last she slips past the band of his boxers, skin touching skin, and Daichi’s sharp inhale has her following.

“Don’t tell me to stop,” she whimpers, bumping noses, before kissing him deep again. She swallows his groan when her fingers grip him fully and begin jerking him beneath the fabric. “Please.”

“Yui, damn it, _you—ghh!”_ She echoes his needy cry, jerking him faster.

The car, small and compact, quickly begins to overheat. Yui yanks at his belt loops to wrench away his jeans from her way, to free his cock from its confine and then thumb his tip so briskly that Daichi begins rocking his hips to the rhythm, knuckles white as he clutches the edges of his seat. The only thing keeping him from crying out is his teeth clacked together to trap any and all sounds — but Yui is only challenged.

He allows a gasp to escape, sharp and unconstrained, when her tongue wets the path from his head down his thickening length, stopping to kiss one of his balls before she takes it fully into her mouth. She knows his cock by now, has his sweetest spots mapped and memorized. When she’s rewarded with a low, choked shudder, something in her heart roars.

 _“Fuck,_ Yui, I _can’t…”_

Yui’s slid herself in the small space beneath the wheel, sliding into place where she can peel his legs apart and bob at his turgid erection, her hands holding him stiff and upright as her mouth gives him pleasure from his base leading to his head. She hums against the throbbing vein, kisses it so slow and deep that she’s pulled him back into her mouth, and Daichi’s greying fingers seem ready to cause dents on either side of his seat.

“Why,” he breathes, “are you doing this?”

“Hmmm, it’s because of you, Daichi,” she whispers, and pulls another shiver down his spine at her long and petulant suck. “Because you won’t stop ignoring me.”

“Wha…” Her answer seems to sober him somewhat, as he tries desperately to search her face.

But Yui’s patience drowns within the heat in her panties, snaps like it’s been on the tottering edge of doing since that night at the festival, since that night at the theater, and every day in between leading up to this moment. Daichi hisses low in faded disappointment when she pulls him from her mouth, his hips jutting once as if urging her lips back around his heat. But Yui clambers her way back onto the seat, desperately fighting her way back on top of his large body with legs on either side of him and his eyes trained only on her, the lust in them pulsing something down to her clit.

She scrambles to bunch up her skirt, pulling it up to her stomach and doing a messy, one-handed job of bringing her panties down to her knees. His gaze follows her restless fingers as they skip all preliminaries and slide into her entrance.

The way his eyes widen has her groaning even more than the pleasure of touching herself, touching herself in front of _him_ , letting him watch how she works herself as she’s been doing to thoughts of him for so many nights.

More than her fingers, he seems entranced by the way her face twitches with each pump of her fingers, each rub of her clit, antsy and primal and _rough._

_“God… Gghh…”_

She’s not sure which one of them is making such lusty noises, whether the overwhelming smell of arousal comes from him or her. Her sense of awareness is limited in the moment only to her fingers flicking out of her slickness, of her thighs easing apart, and the sudden hooking of her hands into his hair to bring his lips to her sex.

_“Ahhhh!”_

Her skirt flutters over his face, hiding him from view, but she _feels_ every sensation of his tongue obligingly meeting her sensitive flesh, of his wetness meeting hers. Her back curves from the jolt of satisfaction, her fingers scratching at his scalp.

Daichi hums against her clit, taking it into his mouth and teasing it as he continues to moan, and Yui keens at the sensation of the sounds.

 _“A-Ah!_ Daichi, you always make me feel _so good,”_ she pants, water pooling at the corners of her eyes.

There’s a grunt of approval from under her skirt, before his cock is poking against the inside of her thigh and his hands grip her ass to hold her in place for when he flicks against her entrance for a quick tease.

Yui rocks against him, tugging his face closer, _begging_ for it one more time.

Daichi doesn’t just give it to her; he pinches her ass just hard enough to make her squirm, and just as she’s on the tottering edge of filling the whole car with her desperate cries is when he sinks his tongue into her wetness, probing her walls for that single spot he’s come to know well that would send her right to the edge of the cliff. And then he thrusts against it, _hard,_ pulls back and thrusts again, and Yui screams softly as she begins rocking relentlessly against his mouth.

 _“Da-i-chi!”_ she heaves, dry-sobbing, and the whole car has started to shake from his rough, relentless way of showing her love, of eating her out on this deserted highway like they’re the only ones on the planet and she’s the only thing that’s ever mattered. It feels _so good_ to have his attention again.

“Daichi… _oh! Daichi!”_ she screams, when he fits her sex to his mouth so he can lick up a trail and leave fire everywhere he touches, mercilessly sucking her off like he plans to leave her numb for weeks to come.

The shock on his face, then, is palpable when she forcefully plungers him off her clit and pulls him out from under her skirt, his mouth wet she knows from more than just saliva. She kisses him anyway, deep and lingering, before plopping down on his crotch and making them both hiss when his cock meets her heat.

“Dai— _god, I_ …” she moans feverishly, pulling open his shirt and pressing heated kisses to his firm chest. Her mind keeps slipping; she doesn’t remember where she is, where she’s going, whether anything _existed_ before she’d taken Daichi’s dick into her mouth.

Gripping him beneath her legs, she guides him to her entrance.

That’s when Daichi’s expression shifts, something akin to fear flashing through his eyes for a second. “Yui, we don’t have—”

She thrusts down, taking in his entire length in one, fluid motion.

Daichi chokes, head dropping to her shoulder, the hands on her ass squeezing her hard enough to bruise. But Yui doesn’t give herself even time to adjust before clutching his shoulders and thrusting _hard_ again, her walls stretching under the pressure before burning with a dull sort of pain she _relishes_ in when skin grinds against skin.

The car’s shaking again, groaning in protest when she begins to fuck Daichi relentlessly, raw and animalistic, rocking him in and out of her sex as she presses kisses to the corner of his mouth and gasps each time she haphazardly manages to smash onto him _just_ right. Daichi’s shuddering breath makes her heart swell, urges her to ride even harder, to make him surrender his hips to her.

 _“Yui,”_ he grunts through clenched teeth, scratching up her back as he meets her thrusts. “Th-This is… _ghh…_ a bad idea...”

 _“Oh,_ Daichi,” she gasps, “I’ve wanted this for _so long.”_

“But Yui, I’m close and I” — something like terror crosses his face again — “and we’re not—”

Yui’s throaty cry drowns out his worries, her mouth pressed to his chest as she quickens the pace to bring herself to where she can also feel herself building too, her now dampened walls craving him every time he slides out. He’s hardened like marble inside her, throbbing to the point of orgasm, and Yui thinks of how _long_ it’s been since they’ve come together as she supports herself on aching thighs, ready to take him back in.

But then, Daichi’s hands are on her hips.

She stills at his forceful grip, eyes widening, oxygen hard to take in — and even more so when she notices the flash in his eyes. Hard. Firm. Rejection.

He growls, _“Stop.”_

Yui’s jaw unhinges, her shock reaching deep into her core. Her throat constricts, snug and tight and dry like sandpaper.

Daichi doesn’t need words; he firmly takes her hips and uproots her, sliding out from between her walls until she topples onto his thighs instead. Yui still doesn’t have the mind to speak, or to clamp her lips shut. She watches him breathe in, breathe out, willing his boner to dissipate when they both know he’d been seconds from orgasm and it wouldn’t be that easy. Still, he tries.

Yui forcibly clears her throat once, hands crossing over her chest. And that’s when hurt comes.

“C-Can you tell me _why?”_ she croaks, her shoulders still heaving. She’s not going to cry, she’s not going to cry, she’s _not going to cry._

Daichi takes one look at her dejected face and sighs, fingers reaching to brush her cheek. “Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbles, still stroking her, still trying to ease her trembling chin. He’s being gentle now, and somehow it’s excruciating. “We don’t have protection, Yui. This isn’t how to do things.”

“But _why?”_ she demands, lips pinching. And before he can recycle his raised brow into a formulated answer, she barrels on, _“Why_ have you been ignoring me, Daichi? Why won’t you take my calls or let me kiss you or even _look_ at me anymore? Did I do something _wrong?”_

Some form of guilt shadows his face. He looks away, mumbling, “No, of course you didn’t.”

“You don’t like me anymore?” she tries, and the words hurt to even _say_ let alone have solidified into truth, but she needs to know. “I-Is there someone else…?”

 _“No._ Yui, _god,_ it’s not…” He wet his lips, halting, rubbing at his eyes like he doesn’t understand how things turned out this way. She doesn’t either. After a moment, he sighs. “Can I please put my pants on? I don’t want to talk like this.”

Yui clambers off in seconds, yanking her panties back up as she slips back into her own seat. Daichi is much slower, gently easing his boxers back over himself before his jeans follow, and then he meets her large, expectant eyes and seems to brace himself for what’s to come. His Adam’s apple bobs.

“I still… like you, Yui,” is his start, a hand tousling his hair. “A _lot,_ actually.” He has the nerve to turn pink in color, to make her heart thud, to suddenly turn shy as he looks at her face and reasserts in a soft voice, “Very much.”

Yui swallows. “Then…”

“That’s the thing, see? I don’t want… this _thing_ we have.” He motions between them, his face hardening. “I don’t want to just sleep with you one night out of the year and then not see you again until the next time. I don’t want it to feel like this is all we have. Yui, I-I… I’ve been putting up with this for three years because it’s what you wanted and I had to be a good guy and you weren’t ready and I understand that, but… three years I’ve been wanting to say it. That I. Want a relationship.”

Something in Yui’s chest stutters, tripping over unexpected words.

“A real one. Not some dinner where we pretend we’re just friends and nothing more. Not just one date where we’ll know we won’t see each other again afterwards, maybe not even _talk_ for who knows how long.”

She’s not going to cry, she’s not going to cry, she’s _not going to cry._

“And I know, I _know,”_ he sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Yui, it’s not what you want, it’s what you’ve never wanted. Or that you can’t. But, fuck, what does a guy who really, _really_ likes you have to do before you can see that I’m not going to hurt you, and I just want to say _yes_ when people ask if I have a girlfriend, and that there’s no one else I’ve ever slept with or _want_ to and—”

 _“Daichi!”_ she laughs, sniffling loudly. And, all right, maybe her eyes are a bit wet and she tastes salt in the back of her mouth and she’s crying a _little_ bit. She’s not even trying to hold it all back. “Why are you like this!” she laughs again, and this time it’s accompanied with a soft punch to his arm that leaves him speechless.

“Uh… what?”

“I can’t believe you’ve been dodging me all this time because of _this!_ Why didn’t you just _tell_ me?” she squawks, waving a hand about. “Then I could have come clean too, you dolt!”

He blinks once, coherency evading him.

 _“Honestly,_ Daichi, _this_ is why it’s so infuriating when men try to act all macho and cool and not talk about their feelings. And what was avoiding me going to do?” she demands, hands going to her hips despite the limited space.

“W-Well, I-I,” he stutters, scratching his neck. “I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship, Yui, and all because I couldn’t keep myself under control and started pushing you into anything. So I—all I could think to do was not _touch_ you again.” His eyes dull, lowering down to his lap. “I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

Her face softens considerably. “I’m the one who hurt you, Daichi. For three years. You were always only good to me and I’m sorry I took that for granted.”

His eyes pop. “Not at all—!”

 _“Ugh,_ this is _so annoying!”_ she whines, throwing her head back to groan at the roof, fingers tangling into her locks to scratch at her scalp and probably creating a similar mess of her hair that’s currently raging through her thoughts. “I should have just _told_ you at the festival! _Gah!_ I can’t believe we wasted all this time, like two chickens just waiting to be cooked or something.”

Daichi lets her flail for a bit longer, just work out her restlessness, before he taps absentmindedly on the steering wheel. “What did you want to tell me?”

She takes a deep, steadying breath before her palms come down to her cheeks for a sharp slap, the impact clearing her head _and_ pumping her with adrenaline all at once. She declares, “That it’s distance- _smishtance_ with me! You could go live in America and I would _still_ only want _you.”_

His hand slips from the wheel. “Really?”

“Daichi, I was _so miserable_ without you,” she moans, kicking her legs, hands on her face. “All the time. Mao was sick of me and I think Chizuru was too, she was just too nice to say anything. And it was all my fault too, you know? _I’m_ the one who decided I wanted things this way? Just how _could_ I tell you that I regretted it _so much?_ That I wanted everything with you no matter what? _Gghhh.”_

She deflates in her seat an overheated mess, groaning into her hands about how absurd she’s been about evading happiness when it had always been within her grasp. Then Daichi grips her by the wrists, pulls her hands away and brings her to face him, his expression one that says he’s hardly daring to believe what he’s heard. Yui feels something coil in her stomach.

“So,” he breathes, just above a whisper, “you’re saying…”

“That I like you a lot,” she replies automatically. Their foreheads bump. “And I want to try having something _real_ with you.”

“Distance be damned?”

 _“Everything_ be damned,” she replies, and brushes his nose softly.

Her wobbly smile is one she can’t contain, but it matches Daichi’s in every way. And when they delve into nervous giggles, both aware that they’re steadily moving closer, just _looking_ at the other’s face both has them pink and warm like watching fireworks at a summer festival, the backdrop one of pretty lanterns and gentle fairy lights, and they’re firmly holding hands like they’ve always been meant to. And it _feels_ like fireworks when their lips touch.

“…I didn’t either, you know, since you,” she admits shyly, when they pull away. “Sleep with anyone else. Or even like anyone else.”

“And you’re never going to,” he states confidently, slipping his fingers between hers and holding up their joined hands. His sure smile is dashing in every way.

The first reflex is to punch, playful and light. The second is to turn crimson like the impending sunset, maybe bashfully glance away. The third is to pepper kisses to his face, just because she can.

She settles for squeezing the hand twined with hers, and agrees in a gentle voice, “No one else.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Train stations could soon be her favorite places, Yui thinks.

Once they had meant sad goodbyes, homesickness, heartbreak. Now, she dodges her way through the terminal and sees her boyfriend’s face awaiting her at the end of the platform, and this train station beats any other ground she has ever walked on.

He waves nervously, clearly unable to hold back his smile. Yui’s reaction is much noisier.

 _“Daichi!”_ she shrieks, her grin cracking her face, and her suitcase is readily abandoned when she bolts across the platform and all but catapults herself onto the startled boy, laughing giddily as she wraps her legs around his waist and he just barely manages to grip her thighs in time to steady them. They spin from the impact, but Yui buries her face into his neck and laughs until she’s out of breath.

“Yui, that was _dangerous,”_ he scolds her, out of breath himself from the nerves.

She presses their noses together, flutters her eyelashes, and grins fondly into his eyes. “I missed you.”

All of his sternness instantly melts away.

They garner a few looks from other people on the platform, mostly from some very giggly teenagers, but Daichi keeps his head held high as he picks up her bag and walks them out of the station. Yui herself is halfway oblivious to the world around them when they’re holding hands.

The backseat of the taxi he had called is slightly cramped, but then, she has no complaints about squishing close and laying her head on his shoulder.

He smiles down at her. “How have you been?”

Yui thinks of time that has passed. It had been a train station much like this one where she had last seen Daichi; rumpled and flushed from their impromptu round of sex in the car and the confession that had followed, they had gathered many looks back then too. But neither had cared as they’d shared one last kiss before Yui had disappeared into the train, waving wistfully from her window until they had lost sight of each other.

Mao and Chizuru had, understandably, kept her up that entire night with questions after she had dropped the unexpected news. Even now, Mao can’t help the occasional raunchy joke when Yui is smiling at some stray text from her lover, amused whenever she can make her drop her phone.

“But hey, good on you,” she had said, genuinely happy for her friend, when Yui had told her how _happy_ she finally was.

She and Daichi keep up through texts and calls and video chats, any way that they can, as often as they can. Any time Yui gets to see his face, his handsome smile and his eyes that light up when he can see her, she thinks of how silly she had been to think that distance would ever chip away at their feelings.

But even her love for sweet good-morning texts from her boyfriend cannot beat having him in her arms, his steady hand on her thigh as he presses affectionate kisses to her temple.

“Better now that you’re here,” she sighs dreamily, and sinks into his side.

Daichi’s apartment building is quainter than what she had imagined of one on the outskirts of a bustling city like Tokyo, but then, it suits him somehow. Yui is especially thrilled for her first look at the place Daichi has called home for the past year; video call tours just hadn’t been enough.

“I brought Koalamane!” she tells him eagerly, racing up the steps as he follows behind with her suitcase. “This is his new home, I’ve decided. You better take good care of him.”

Daichi chuckles indulgently. “You can count on me.”

The apartment is empty at this time of day. Daichi tells her he had skipped his last class, leaving Suga behind after wheedling out a promise that he would take extra good notes for both of them, and Yui is only sheepish for a moment that her arrival had pulled him from his studies before she’s back to admiring the room.

“You two are really neat,” she notes, almost embarrassed to think of the messy dorm room she had left behind.

“We’re just not home that often,” he replies, plopping her suitcase down by the entrance before taking her hand. “Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the place.”

Yui tests the sofa cushion for both comfort and bounciness before taking a peek into their empty fridge and then sheepishly toppling over a tower of towels in the linen closet. It’s hitting her slowly, though, that she’s _here._ Daichi’s apartment. Daichi’s arms.

Daichi’s bedroom — where he studies, where he sleeps, where he thinks of her at night.

“See, it’s not so neat in here, is it?” he laughs. “I’ve been cramming for an exam so I’ve been putting off— _mmm!”_

Yui’s mouth takes him by surprise when it feverishly covers his, her hands taking the opportunity to stroke every available inch of him they can reach. Daichi is no stranger to surprise kisses, with a romance likes theirs, and automatically his arms encircle her so he may kiss her back just as desperately.

“Daichi,” she breathes, pressing against him. “How long has it been since we…”

 _“Hng._ Three months.”

 _“Too long,”_ she groans, licking his bottom lip. They tumble into his room, off balance but not any less willing to let the other go, when she reaches for the zipper of his jeans.

To her dismay, he clamps his hand around hers. Before she can entirely fall into a dejected mood, however, he deepens the kiss tenfold and takes his time thoroughly ravishing her mouth, kissing her into a daze before finally pulling away.

“We can’t,” he grumbles, looking just as disappointed. “Suga and I made plans to take you out for dinner, then show you around town tonight. He’ll be home soon and, well, reservations are soon too.”

“Oh.” Despite how her lip curls, disappointment coursing through her own veins, a little sparkle of excitement has her perking as well. A chance to see Suga and wander the town hand-in-hand with her boyfriend isn’t such a bad night, after all. “Good thing I brought a nice dress, then! Do you mind if I shower?”

Towel and clean clothes in hand, she wanders into the boys’ bathroom humming and shucks off her travel clothes, hiding behind the shower curtain before finally twisting on the warm water. She takes a moment just to take in the scent of soap — this is how Daichi smells — before lathering herself with the bar.

Perhaps it’s the running of the shower or her own off-key humming echoing off the walls, but she misses the bathroom door being pushed open and the rustling of clothes as they’re tugged off his person, and she doesn’t realize Daichi’s joined her until he yanks away the shower curtain and carefully steps into the bathtub himself.

Yui looks over her shoulder in alarm, and subsequently drops the bar of soap when she takes in his nakedness.

“D-Daichi?” she squeaks, torn between diving after the soap and raking her eyes over his every curve.

He beats her to it when he scoops the bar into his palm, then drops it into hers when he shuffles close. Burying his nose into her wet hair, he breathes in deeply before growling, “Three months is _way_ too long.”

Yui’s head spins, his bare, damp chest so full in her vision that it’s difficult to remember anything else exists in the world. She lays a palm flat against his nipple, bringing it down and letting her fingers trail over the bud, and swallows hard at his loud shudder. A quick glance shows her he’s closed his eyes at the sensation, so she grazes back over it again and pulls another shiver from his body.

“I missed you,” Daichi says, pushing wet hair from her face, then brings her chin forward for a kiss.

Yui reciprocates eagerly, throwing her arms around his neck and stepping closer to press their bodies together, leaving behind a trail of soap everywhere she touches. She lets him push her to the shower wall and squeals slightly at the touch of cold marble, but it’s swallowed by his kiss when he smoothly slips his tongue between her lips. Yui moans into him, throwing a leg about his waist to bring their hips flush together.

“How did I _ever_ last three months,” he groans, kissing her all that much harder.

Yui’s giggle melts into a slight gasp when his fingers ghost over the inside of her thighs and between her legs, teasing her sex. She shamelessly grinds down harder, demanding more attention, and reciprocates when her fingers seize him about the base of his cock.

Simultaneously, they begin to stroke, hard and fast.

Yui chokes, opening herself up to him, urging his fingers into her walls — and Daichi, she’s coming to know, would never deny the pleasure she seeks. His fingers are eager, skilled, and they pump into her with such zeal that she entirely stops breathing.

 _“Ahh,_ Daichi, you’re so _a-amazing,”_ she groans, tonguing him for everything she’s worth.

Her own hand strokes faster in response, her thumb rubbing wildly at his very tip as her fingers work his entire, throbbing length. Daichi is equally shameless this day, pressing into her hand and making clear where he loves her touch most; she takes one of his balls into her palm and massages slow, and his knees almost buckle.

 _“Ghh,_ you’re the amazing one,” he wheezes, and it’s all the warning she receives before he pulls out of her sex and hooks her thighs in the same fluid motion, hitching her to the air and around his waist.

Yui shrieks, hanging on for dear life, until she’s pushed to the wall again completely at his mercy.

“We’re going to slip,” she giggles against his mouth, fingers trailing down his back where the pelting water’s started to tinge his flesh.

Daichi looks her square in the eye, and says seriously, “I’ve got you.”

Goosebumps rise across Yui’s skin, the kind she’s always associated with the parts of Daichi she admires most. This boy is hers now, this man she loves now hers to kiss and touch and feel. She can’t even remember a time when she wasn’t his.

Three months has degenerated all his patience. He’s not slow, careful, doesn’t even test the waters when he brings his cock to her entrance and enters her with a flick of his hips, pulling a small scream from her lips that echoes off the bathroom tiles in the lewdest fashion.

Yui pants hard, knocked breathless. “I’ve… _missed_ this…”

“You still feel so amazing,” he murmurs, his nose buried between her sudsy breasts. “I hope you’re ready, Yui. I didn’t step into this bathroom with plans to be nice.”

She shivers, already clawing him closer. “Just _do me already.”_

Daichi smirks, nuzzles her breasts once, and then with another flick of his hips, he slams into her until she’s taken him all the way to his base. Yui dry sobs, letting her cries bounce off the walls for all she cares, and begins furiously raking her nails down his back. And Daichi keeps this harsh rhythm, not even pulling out completely before diving back in to slam against her most sensitive spot, his hands gripping her ass and his nose enamored with her breasts.

_“Ah! Daichiiiiii!”_

Yui tries to push her hips from the wall, to feverishly meet him in the middle so his thrusts could be that much harder, but Daichi has her completely trapped against the tiles — and he sees this as challenge. Prying her thighs farther apart, he settles himself more firmly between her legs, doubling his pace without losing any of his ridiculous strength.

 _“Oh god._ Oh god! Oh god, oh god, ohgodohgod _ohgod_ —!”

Yui’s clawing and kissing and biting at any part of him she can reach, her hand occasionally coming down to smack his firm ass and pulling a lustful growl from him.

“I-I want to come together, b-but,” she pants, her head lolling on his shoulder. This is skin on skin, no barrier between them.

“I don’t care about me,” he grunts, and captures her lips in a hard kiss. “I’m here for you.”

His fingers meet the flesh of her clit in an old dance, syncing with his haphazard thrusts, and Yui reaches the very edge of her control in record time. Her vision goes white, but her hearing’s all too clear — she hears her lustful screams, her desperate _I love you, I love you, I love you!_ filling the bathroom as Daichi fucks her so thoroughly that she thinks the world might have flipped upside down.

She comes in the most brutal of ways, feeling not like Daichi’s brought her to the edge more than he’s dragged her there by the horns.

Everything disappears for a moment; she doesn’t even feel Daichi’s cock snug and tight inside her, she’s so numb. But then something hot dribbles down her thighs and her walls unclench, and Yui’s brought back to this small bathroom and the most mind-blowing sex she’s ever had.

Daichi looks entirely proud of himself, watching her face as she slowly delves back into some semblance of proper consciousness. “Enjoying yourself?”

“So much.” She pries open her eyelids and glances down at their still-joined hips, then wrinkles her nose. “But you didn’t get to join in the fun.”

“Ah, that’s not a big deal…”

Yui determinedly grips him around his base and pulls him out, paying no mind to the trail of cum that drips out of her, and squirms enough that Daichi carefully uncages her and sets her down in the tub. Yui sways at first, needing to be steadied after the intense round of sex, but she’s still yet to release him and then it’s Daichi’s turn to be pressed to the bathroom wall.

“You really don’t need to, Yui,” he tries to insist, as always, but Yui only drops to her knees and, after flashing him a stern look, takes him into her mouth. His head lolls back, his entire body curving so that his hips roll closer to her mouth and subsequently push him in deeper. _“Hng.”_

Yui wrinkles her nose again, at the unfamiliar taste she knows is her own cum slathered over his length. But she only pries his legs apart, slides in closer, and begins to suck on his head until his muscles begin to twitch. It’s her turn to give him the best orgasm of his life.

It does not take long for Daichi to harden like diamond, all his blood rushing to her lips clamped around his member. He’d already been so close when Yui had pulled him from her walls, and Yui, she doesn’t let any part of him go touched; her tongue at his tip and her mouth dragging over his curve and her fingers teasing his balls. Before long Daichi’s hanging onto the towel bar for support and panting raggedly like it’s the last set of a match.

“Yui, I’m close,” he tries to warn her, his teeth grinding together.

But Yui only sucks that much harder, works him that much more briskly, and it’s so soon when he’s burning at the back of her throat. His hips thrust once, and then he spills fast into her mouth. _“Fuck_ — _hnggh!”_

Yui splutters, unused to the sensation. Despite her best efforts, she’s unable to catch all of him before she has to pull away, but still his cum is swimming in her mouth when she pulls back and spits loudly towards the drain. The goopy substance lands in the tub before getting washed away, and finally she looks up at her boyfriend, immensely pleased with herself.

“You… are… so wonderful,” he wheezes, still barely keeping his knees from giving in.

Yui giggles, gets to her feet and presses herself up against him, and tells him playfully, “You better not expect that every time, though!”

Daichi manages a weak smile, stroking her cheek, and says simply, “You don’t owe me anything.”

Ahh, he’s even more wonderful, she thinks, throwing her arms around his chest and sloppily pressing herself against it. Daichi’s hand on her back keeps her steady. A small, content sigh escapes her lips.

The moment is ruined, not a second later, in possibly the worst way.

A knock on the door has them both stilling, a chill passing through the bathroom, and then they both hear, “Uhh. You two finished in there?”

Suga.

Yui instantly straightens, clapping a hand over her mouth to smother her squeak, and meets Daichi’s horrified look with burning cheeks.

“It was nice, um, hearing from you again, Michimiya,” he carries on. “Our reservation’s in an hour though, so maybe you two should get a move on? Oh, and please don’t repeat this again, you guys.” He sounds pained. “I have to use that bathtub too.”

His footsteps fade away, and that’s when Yui wails quietly through her hands.

“I can’t believe we—! He—! He _heard everything!”_

“I’m gonna get killed,” Daichi groans, closing his eyes and simply accepting his fate.

“Oh, god, and he said the dinner is in _one hour_ and I haven’t even showered yet!” she flusters, searching for the soap that had once more gotten lost in the hectic events of their lovemaking. She scoops it off the floor and begins furiously scrubbing her arm again, turning her back to her mildly amused boyfriend.

She falters, however, when she feels gentle fingers delving into her hair. Over her shoulder she meets Daichi’s eyes, blinking up at him in question.

And he still has it in him to look nervous, _shy,_ as he asks, “Can I shampoo your hair for you?”

Yui melts into a puddle on the floor, the most loving of smiles taking over her face. “Y-Yeah!”

He looks so relieved as he snatches the shampoo bottle, bringing her closer to himself, and they probably spend more time kissing under the water than they do cleaning themselves.

So what if they’re somewhat late to their reservation and need to beg the patrons to be allowed in, then have to endure crude looks from Suga across the table all night. Yui’s already gotten everything she’d hoped for with this visit.

 

 

 

Maybe Daichi’s bed would beat out train stations for her favorite place after all, Yui muses, nuzzling deeper into his chest. It’s comfy, warm, and best of all, Daichi’s arms currently have her pressed up snugly against him, with no intention of letting go anytime soon.

“Mmm,” she hums contently, burrowing ever closer. “This is so nice, Daichi. This is how close I want you all the time.”

He chuckles next to her ear, pulling the blanket up over both of them. “I’m working on it.”

Over dinner he’d nervously shared his thoughts on future plans, and one of them had included a small research lab in her area. Perhaps the excitement of the news would be her favorite memory of the trip. Or perhaps it would be sharing sake with the two boys and indulging in terrible, off-key karaoke until Suga had turned pink in the face. Or perhaps the stars on their walk home, Daichi’s arm around her waist. Or perhaps the feeling of crawling into bed with Daichi for the night, for the first time and for many more times to come, and knowing he would be there when she awoke.

“Well, no matter where you choose to go,” she murmurs, pecking the corner of his mouth.

“There’s no one else,” he finishes, for both of them, and brings her hand to his lips for a quiet kiss.

Before sleep can take them both fully captive, Yui decides her favorite place would forever and always be wherever she could fall asleep in Daichi’s arms.

 

_Fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "daiyui boned happily ever after" — twitter user @beneathelm. (She's not wrong, though).
> 
> Go read her DY fic, "Of Stone and Coral Bone," which was the reason I _had_ to scrap whatever plans I had for the ending of this fic and include shower sex no matter what. Ohoho.
> 
> Also, this is my final chance to send my friend Autumn hugs and kisses and just _so_ much love for all the help she gave me with writing this fic, giving me advice and tips, answering all my questions, reading over all the chapters and giving them her approval, and for just generally being one of the kindest people I know /w\ You should totally read her writing too (she's [sundrymunity](http://archiveofourown.org/users/sundrymunity/pseuds/sundrymunity)); it's lovely and soft and soothing and full of emotion!
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me through this little sin-writing experiment! I'm not leaving this fic feeling completely mortified, so that's a good sign, haha. Thank you for reading! o/


End file.
